


eat a mango, gift a garden

by bafflinghaze, toutcequonveut



Category: Original Work
Genre: Art, Digital Art, Embedded Images, Fluff, Food, No seriously so much food, Nonbinary Character, Other, Romance, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Vietnamese Food, gratuitous descriptions of food, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 41,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27357994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bafflinghaze/pseuds/bafflinghaze, https://archiveofourown.org/users/toutcequonveut/pseuds/toutcequonveut
Summary: Kai has been drifting through life, working himself to the bone and lacking warmth in his life. And then he meets Khánh, to whom sharing food and spending time together with a stranger makes perfect sense. One good deed deserves another.Or: an extended love letter to Vietnamese food 🍚
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Nonbinary Character
Comments: 113
Kudos: 24





	1. Bánh xèo - Vietnamese savoury crepes

**Author's Note:**

> Updates on Tuesdays and Fridays (for now)
> 
> Title comes from a Vietnamese proverb:  
> Eat the plum (given as a gift) but give back a peach (Ăn mận, trả đào)
> 
> toutcequonveut: This is a work that came into existence over many many cravings for Viet food. May the person reading this be blessed with lots of good food in their future!
> 
> bafflinghaze: This was co-written by both of us alternating chapters, I hope you all enjoy and get hungry with us hahah

  
  


Cover drawn by bafflinghaze

The scent of fried, savoury _food_ , is a punch to Kai’s gut. He’s been ignoring all bodily functions throughout his shift, but now, all that nausea and lightheadedness and _empty empty_ stomach comes crashing back. Blackness encroaches from the side, and he reaches out to grab the fence of someone’s backyard, trying to steady himself. His legs are weak. Worse, the fence starts wobbling. He quickly lets go, but he can’t seem to remain upright without support.

But he needs to keep walking. He needs to go home, to rummage around his cupboard and hope there’s a tin of something left. He needs to prepare for his second job.

The only thing he can think of is _food_.

It’s late evening, dusk orange in the sky. The front window of the nearby house is lit up, with the window slightly ajar. The sounds of pots and pans, the aroma of food, and the profile of someone cooking—black hair, upturned lips, dark eyes, warm skin. The room looks welcoming. He wonders if they have a partner, dinner ready when they come home.

The cook glances out the window. Their eyes meet.

 _SHIT!_ Kai quickly tries to straighten up, but the sudden upright position makes his head spin and he collapses.

 _That’s one way to get out of sight_ , he thinks, curling up around his stomach.

“—Oh no! Are you hurt? Let me help you up.”

Warm hands pull Kai up. His stomach grumbles, and he presses an arm against it.

“I need to go home—”

“Sit. I’m not letting you leave in this state!”

 _It’s a dream_ , Kai thinks. He’s led to the garden table and chairs in the front yard. He numbly accepts the glass of water. Stares when a plate is placed in front of him: crispy crepe topped with prawns and pork and tiny little hard-boiled eggs, fresh salad and herbs, and a deeply umami sesame sauce.

He stares at the angel. _This is a dream_. It’s impossible for him to have a restaurant-level dish in front of him, seated in a quaint garden, warm lighting around the two of them. Impossible for an angel to be cutting up the crepe before him with scissors as if they routinely serve meals to mere mortals in their garden.

“Eat,” the angel says. They start on their own plate.

 _If it’s a dream, I may as well_...Kai’s cautious, afraid that he’ll wake up. Even though he has a nagging feeling that he _should_ try to wake up. He looks down at his plate and realizes that he has no idea how to begin eating, the food as unfamiliar to him as the dream situation is. Unsure how to proceed, he copies what the angel is doing. A spoonful of sesame sauce, drizzle over the crepe, pick up a piece with some of everything on it...

The flavours and textures burst in his mouth. He tries to eat slowly and savour it. It’s _amazing_. The angel smiles, and returns with another plate, and then another.

Kai’s washing the last crepe with his glass of water when he realises that this _isn’t_ a dream.

The angel sitting across from him is a _real person_. A _stranger_.

“I—” Kai starts.

The stranger looks at him with warm eyes. Kai can’t handle it.

Kai jumps to his feet. “I’m sorry! Thank you so much, I’m sorry!”

Without looking back, Kai runs away.

  
  


  


Bánh xèo drawn by toutcequonveut  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> _In an alternate universe..._
> 
> On the brick path leading to the palace, a weary knight collapses. No one is around to see him, save a sneaking figure in common clothes that look uncomfortable on their graceful physique. 
> 
> The figure glances left, then right, then left again before rushing to help the knight sit up. “Are you okay?” they whisper.
> 
> “Food…” the knight groans. “So… hungry…”
> 
> The figure abandons their attempt to sneak outside the palace and instead carries the knight inside. A full course menu is arranged for the monarch of the realm and their friend.
> 
> After the knight eats his fill, he suddenly realizes this is not a dream. He is actually in the presence of this mysterious monarch who has never shown their face. 
> 
> “I’m sorry!” he yelps as he dashes out of the room with a clatter of dishes. 
> 
> The monarch stares after him and feels a sense of mourning. They hope they will see this strange knight again.


	2. Bánh mì - Vietnamese sandwich

Khánh doesn’t expect to see the person again.

At least, that’s what they tell themself even as they are punching down bread dough. The surprised delight on the stranger’s face while crunching through the crispy shell of bánh xèo had warmed something in Khánh’s heart, as had the enthusiastic way they eyed the second and third portions on the plate.

Khánh loves to cook and provide for others, but their isolating job and general awkwardness means that most of their friends are too far away to indulge in such mothering. It had been like a dream: the heavy light of sunset cloaking everything in gold, the stranger with lovely eyes watching Khánh eat their own dish before attempting the same, sharing a _meal_ with another _human_. It had been clear that the stranger didn’t have much experience with Vietnamese food, and it brings out a yearning for the stranger to return so that Khánh can show them even _more_ Vietnamese cuisine.

It wouldn’t do to aspire to disappointment, though, especially given the odd situation that had brought them together.

Once the baguettes are in the oven, Khánh goes to retrieve the mail. They are struggling with the abundance of flyers shoved in their mailbox when they see a familiar figure approaching.

“Hello!” Khánh calls out excitedly, dropping the mail all over the porch.

The person freezes, then appears to force themself to continue walking up the path. Khánh gathers up the mail and waits, beaming, as the person approaches.

Once in speaking distance, they clench their fists by their sides, staring at the wood beneath Khánh’s feet. There is a moment of silence, and then the person asks, “ThankyouforthefoodyesterdaycanIpayyoubackbyweedingyourfrontgarden?”

Khánh blinks slowly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that?”

They take a deep breath, redness spreading over their cheeks, and repeat slower this time, “Thanks for the food yesterday, can I weed your front garden? Um, in payment.”

Khánh thinks wistfully about the state of their back garden and how much they’d appreciate the help _there_ instead, but the stranger had specified the front garden and well. It seems to be important to them, if they’ve come all this way just to offer repayment? Khánh doesn’t even consider sharing some bánh xèo a chore, but it’s not like they especially _want_ to weed their own front garden. Besides, there is that bread cooking in the oven right now, and bánh mì is wonderful after a day of work in the garden.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I would appreciate it,” they reply. “What’s your name by the way?”

“Kai.”

The way they say it is strong and proud, like someone who has earned that name through trials and tribulations. Khánh’s mind-gears whirl, and before they think about it, the words are tumbling from their mouth, “It’s good to meet you Kai. What are your pronouns?”

Kai looks taken aback, and as the seconds pass, Khánh is more and more aware that it’s still an unusual question to hear in real life. They hope they haven’t put their foot in it. Before they can apologize out of sheer panic, Kai says, “He/him, thank you. How about you?”

Relieved, Khánh blurts, “My name is Khanh, and I use they/them pronouns.”

The two of them smile at each other for a bit, then Kai turns around and says, “I’ll go ahead and get started then.” And he pulls out a pair of gardening gloves and does just that.

Khánh retreats into the house and heads straight for the kitchen, dumping the mail on the coffee table along the way. Given the size of the front garden, Kai will probably be done in about an hour, which is just enough time for what they’re planning. They wash their hands, then pull out their mandoline slicer and get to work making julienne cuts of carrot and daikon radish. Once they have roughly equal amounts, they toss everything into a colander with some salt and let it sit, the vegetables shrinking as the salt pulls out the moisture. Meanwhile, they grab a plastic spray bottle and spritz the baguettes. Opening the oven fills the whole house with the wonderful aroma of freshly baked bread, and Khánh can’t wait to see what Kai will think of it.

The vegetables are rinsed, dried, then placed in a jar. Khánh then pours in a solution of boiling water, sugar, and vinegar and sets it aside to pickle. That step done, they check the clock and hustle out to the back garden. It’s a bit of a struggle to work their way amongst the overgrown weeds and dead branches, but eventually they find the patch they’re looking for. It’s early in the season so there’s no cucumbers, but there is a small jalapeño growing, so Khánh quickly harvests it and a few handfuls of cilantro and heads back inside to prepare them. Luckily, they already have some homemade mayo on hand and the baguettes are done, so the last step is to sort out the filling while the bread cools.

Khánh opens the fridge and considers. There’s some shredded chicken or xá xiú meat, or they could quickly whip up some eggs? They bite their lip, considering, and then reach for _both_ the chicken and barbecue meat. If Kai wants eggs, it’s a simple matter to fry some up on request. It’s always good to have a choice.

They have just finished carrying out trays of bread and toppings to the garden table when Kai comes around the side of the house. “Hey,” he greets. “I finished the weeding—” He freezes, chest expanding as he inhales. “That...that smells really good.””

Khánh throws a smile over their shoulder. “Perfect! I’ve put together a little something as a thank you. Oh, I forgot the drinks!” They dash back inside.

“But I did this to thank you for the _last_ meal…” Khánh hears as the door shuts.

It’s touching, but to Khánh, food is meant to be shared. Really, Kai is doing a favor to _them_ by providing his company, but not everyone sees it that way, evidently.

Kai jumps back when Khánh kicks open their front door, arms laden with cups and a large pitcher, the contents of which are swishing dangerously. “Hope you like sugarcane juice!” they call.

“Let me help!” Kai jumps to his feet. He takes the pitcher from Khánh’s arms, and the two of them return to the table. “Er, can I go wash my hands somewhere?”

“Oh, of course!” Khánh ushers him into the side door that leads to the long laundry room and the small bathroom connected to it. They notice him looking around, taking in the length of the room and the second door to the outside that leads to the back garden behind the fence. Thinking of the mess that’s back there, Khánh moves to conceal the view through that window in embarrassment.

Kai cleans up in record time, and they both head back out to the garden table. When they are both seated, Khánh begins pointing out the food excitedly. He can’t wait to see Kai’s reaction, hoping to spark that same joy in his eyes as last time. Kai chooses the shredded chicken. Remembering last time, Khánh takes the lead in preparing their own sandwich, smiling internally when Kai mimics them.

At the first bite, Kai moans in pleasure. He quickly chews and swallows. “This is _fantastic!_ Why have I never had this before? There’s so many different flavors but they’re all working together so cohesively!” He begins to eat with gusto, polishing off the sandwich in record time. He looks at Khanh, and a bit tentatively, asks, “Can I have another?”

“Of course!”

Kai smiles. “Then I want to try the other kind next!” He takes another baguette and assembles the sandwich: spreading on the mayo, adding a layer of red-tinged meat, and topping it off with pickled vegetables, cilantro, and jalapeño.

Khánh beams in appreciation, consuming their own bánh mì more slowly. “Try a bit of the juice with it,” they suggest.

Kai takes a sip and pulls back in awe. “How can something taste so _refreshing?_ ” He takes a few more gulps before returning to his bánh mì. “Can you say all the names again? I want to learn them so I know how to find these again. And what was the name of the thing from last time? The crunchy yellow one?”

As Kai gets more and more comfortable, his words come more and more freely. It’s one of the most pleasant afternoons Khánh has spent in a while, not counting the bánh xèo incident yesterday. They are touched by Kai’s eagerness to learn. He is determined to pronounce the Vietnamese names correctly. Even when Khánh says it’s close enough, he keeps trying, asking for specifics about tongue and teeth placement that suggest he may have studied a bit of linguistics in the past. Khánh finds themself talking about the differences in Vietnamese regional dialects, and before they realize it, two hours have passed.

They send Kai home with the rest of the baguettes as well as a can of condensed milk. “A childhood classic,” they assure. “Just dip a bit of the bread in the condensed milk. Thank me later.”

And when Khánh goes to bed alone in a house that is too quiet and empty, the warmth of the sunshine, the memory, and Kai’s joy stave off their loneliness just a little bit.

  
  
Art drawn by toutcequonveut  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Coworker: What are you eating? Sounds crunchy.
> 
> Kai: ...nothing.
> 
> Coworker: Pleaaaase just let me live vicariously? My wife is pregnant and she will projectile vomit if she smells any sort of oily food. Do you have any idea how sad it is to live life without crunchy food?!
> 
> Kai: This is bread. You can eat bread, can’t you?
> 
> Coworker: Oh, right.
> 
> _Later:_
> 
> Coworker: Wait a minute...that wasn’t the crunch of regular toast. What was it????


	3. Thịt kho - Caramelized braised pork

The next time Kai returns, the ground is still wet from a recent spring rain. He’d planned to force Khanh to let him fix the fence, but now he can see how water is overflowing from the top of the gutters—a sure sign that they need a desperate clean.

The moment he steps onto the property, the front door flies open to reveal Khanh.

“Hey there,” Khanh says with that easy smile. “You’re back!”

Kai freezes. Is he being creepy by returning _again_? “I mean...thank you so much for the food the other day _and_ all the baguettes and condensed milk and it was really good and I’m here to clean your gutters so if you have a ladder handy I can repay you?” His voice goes higher and higher, and he snaps his mouth shut before it gets worse.

Khanh blinks. “There’s nothing wrong with the gutters, is there?”

“Well, I—”

A thoughtful smile hovers on Khanh’s lips. Slowly, they say, “I do have a ladder, it’s by the side of the house.”

Kai nods. “Thanks.” He goes to the side and finds an old metal ladder amongst the overgrown grass. It still works, and it’s hardly the most dangerous thing Kai’s ever done. With his trusty heavy-duty gloves and an even older bucket he finds near the ladder, Kai sets to work. It’s slow going: he has to continually move the ladder along the sides of the house as he finishes each section.

There’s a gate blocking the back half of the house, so Kai can only do the front. Even then, it’s starting to get late, and Kai should finish up so that he can go home for his second job.

The strong smell of soy sauce and meat makes his stomach grumble. But he still hasn’t fixed the fence—especially the part that he’d messed up by leaning on the first time, the part that he’d noticed _constantly_ while weeding the front garden.

“Kai?” Khanh sticks their head out the front door. “It’s getting late, come in and eat dinner!”

Kai’s eyes widen. “No, it’s fine—I need to fix your fence, too, and then I have to get going.”

Khanh emerges from behind the door. “Kai,” they say, a gentleness in their voice that leaves Kai breathless. “You can fix the fence another day. It’s not like it’s falling over!”

Kai winces.

“Now come on in, I made way too much food…”

“I…” His stomach grumbles, and at Khanh’s smile, Kai’s entire face heats up. Head dipping down, Kai plods inside. “Okay. Thank you. Thank you a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” Khanh says warmly.

The front room is a dining space that leads directly into the kitchen. The table by the huge bay window is laden with more than just one dish. Kai is getting a little dizzy purveying the array of unknown dishes on the table. He sinks automatically into the chair Khanh pulls out for him.

“Tea?” Khanh offers.

“Y-yeah.” Kai accepts a small cup of tea: fragrant but light.

“It’s chrysanthemum,” Khanh informs him. “Rice?”

“Okay....” Kai accepts a small bowl of rice, but has no idea where to start. There’s a deep dish of caramelised pork belly and hard boiled eggs, a plate of sliced cucumbers, tiny bowls of various dipping sauces and chilli, and a large dish of a brothy soup.

“Try the thịt kho first—braised pork and eggs, soy sauce and fish sauce,” Khanh says. “If you ever need any more rice, just tell me. Traditional Vietnamese meals are eaten like this—there are two or three or half a dozen dishes, and you can have as much or as little of anything on the table, in any order.”

“Thịt kho,” Kai slowly repeats, trying to wrap his mouth round the tones of the first word. It’s heavy and sharp, and when Khanh good-naturedly says it again, Kai repeats it once more.

He watches how Khanh uses the spoon in the bowl of braised pork and eggs to ladle some into his own bowl, as well as some slices of fresh cucumber and chilli.

Kai does the same—well, skipping the extra chilli. The pork is... _mouth-meltingly_ tender, rich and salty, the egg is firm and richly flavoured, yolk savoury and crumbly, and the plain rice and fresh cucumber make bright accompaniments and perfectly balance out the rich flavours.

Khanh scoops him a second bowl of rice. “A little less, so you can try the canh—the soup,” Khanh informs him.

“R-right, yes, thank you.”

The broth of the soup is surprisingly flavourful and deep, and the pieces of green semi-translucent melon are soft. Kai tries to focus hard on eating, because he doesn’t know what to say. It was easier before, with the bánh mì, when he thought he’d repay Khanh and that would be that. Now, though, he’s eating dinner _in Khanh’s house_ with a promise to come _back_ to finish up the yard work. The food settles comfortably in his stomach, and he feels _satisfied_. It’s scary how he feels this at Khanh’s place.

“More rice?” Khanh asks. “Or if you’re ready for dessert, I have mangoes for us. I got a whole box of them today at the store!”

Kai’s eyes widen. “Wait, no—that’s fine. I’m really full. I need to get to work.” Mangoes are _expensive_. And all the eggs and pork—meat is expensive as well, and the _tea_ is probably expensive too.

Khanh frowns. “This late?”

Kai nods hesitantly. “It’s freelancing,” he says, using the nicest word to describe the odd-job online tutoring and customer service work he does. “It’s all computer work.”

Khanh tilts their head in curiosity but doesn’t press the issue. “Alright then, I’ll pack away dessert for you!”

“No, you don’t have to—”

“I want you to have a snack for some energy doing your work,” Khanh says firmly.

Kai rather helplessly sits and watches Khanh slice up a whole mango and pack it in a plastic box. And _then_ fills another slim take-away box with rice and the braised pork and eggs.

“There you are!” Khanh says.

“I...I don’t know how to thank you. Thank you so, so, so much,” Kai mumbles. “I—I’ll fix your fence. Not tomorrow, but the day after, I promise.”

Khanh’s smile is like yet another gift.

He doesn’t know whether he should hug or shake hands. So he settles on an awkward head-nod/bow, holds the boxes of food against his chest and flees the warmth of Khanh’s home.

  
  
Art by toutcequonveut 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> The fairy of Kai’s dream appears! They wave their wand and a box of food manifests in Kai’s arms. 
> 
> “Thank you,” Kai replies, but before he can turn away the fairy waves their wand again.
> 
> Another box appears.
> 
> And another, and another, and another.
> 
> Kai finally ends up running away with 34 boxes of food as the fairy chases after him, conjuring more and more food. He mustn’t end up hungry!


	4. Bánh cuốn - Vietnamese steamed rice crepes

He’s coming back. _He’s coming back!_ And Khánh knows _when_ he’s coming back so they can prepare something truly amazing! 

The glow of happiness carries over to that day. Khánh hums happily as they stir the batter for bánh ướt. Once the rice flour is all combined, they set the bowl aside and begin prepping the fillings. Kai seems to like trying everything, and Khánh is eager to oblige. They toss some wood ear mushrooms into a bowl to rehydrate, then head outside. The warm spring weather has enticed the mint and Thai basil plants to thrive in the back garden somewhere amidst the general forest back there. Khánh takes several handfuls of each and heads back inside to wash them. Then, they make julienne slices of giò lụa, also called chả lụa. This Vietnamese sausage will be the first store-bought thing Khánh has fed him, but Kai doesn’t need to know that.

They take a deep breath before continuing with the next step. There are two ways of making this dish, one traditional and one more cognizant of the modern marvels known as the non-stick pan. Khánh already knows which method they will use. Though their parents might not be the most understanding about Khánh’s gender, they are the link to Khánh’s cultural heritage, and that means a lot. One of the bright spots of Khánh’s early life was standing on a stepstool at the kitchen counter watching their mom work hard at creating delicious meals out of simple ingredients for the whole family. Khánh had been fascinated with how you could take something that didn’t taste very good on its own and transform it into something that tasted better than all the parts that went into it. Unfortunately, the magic of that time is all kinds of complicated by the strained relations with their parents now.

They allow themselves a minute of wallowing for those carefree days. Then they wrap a cloth around their pot of water, fastening it securely and turning on the heat. Once steam begins billowing, Khánh ladles on a thin layer of batter, beginning the arduous labor of love that is making bánh ướt.

Utterly focused on the process, it takes Khánh a minute to realize that there are noises filtering through from outside that sound distinctly like hammering. They hurriedly finish removing the thin rice crêpe, adding it to the full plate, and rush to the window.

Kai has several wooden panels and metal strips at his feet and is currently pounding one such metal strip into the ground. He looks up and catches Khánh’s gaze, and they share a smile.

Khánh pops open the large window and calls out, “Sorry I didn’t greet you! Have you been working long?”

“No,” Kai replies. “I bought supplies and have everything I need out here, so I’ll just finish this up quick, you don’t even need to come out—”

Khánh looks up from where they are clambering out the large window that directly overlooks the outdoor table and chairs. A colander filled with fruit is balanced precariously in one arm, and one foot is planted firmly on the seat of a chair. Oops. “I thought you might enjoy some fruit to refresh you after you’re done,” they confess, putting on their best pleading eyes. 

“Alright…” Kai says slowly. “I suppose a little bit of fruit is fine. I’ll try it after I finish with the fence, though.” He resumes his hammering, and Khánh takes a moment to admire his progress. Kai has removed all the wood in that section of fence and is using the metal strips to create a framework. It sounds simple, but Khánh knows if they tried it they’d probably take off the wrong panel of fencing or something and the whole thing would come crashing down. There’s a reason they didn’t go into engineering, and not just because their parents were pushing them too hard to pick a “sensible and respectable” career. 

Shelving the thought of their parents once more, Khánh sets the bowl on the table and leaps back into the kitchen. There’s probably time to make some more rice crêpes, roll them into bánh cuốn, and heat up the fried tofu and chả chiên. Khánh can’t wait to watch Kai try all the variations of this dish; it’s one of their favorites because of how very versatile it is. 

When everything is plated, Khánh uses the side door instead of the window to go outside and call Kai, attempting to act like they are a civilized human. Their efforts are moot, though, because Kai has his back to the house as he finishes putting what looks like varnish on the fence. Khánh settles in to watch as he finishes up, peeling and pitting the longan fruits as they wait. Or maybe since dinner is done, the little fruits can be dessert? Oh no, they forgot to plan dessert! Well, this will have to do for tonight. Hopefully Kai enjoyed the mango from last time (though Khánh can’t imagine what kind of person _doesn’t_ enjoy ripe slices of tender mango). 

Eventually, Kai sets the brush down and wipes his forehead with his arm. “I think that’s it!” he calls, turning around to look at Khánh. “I’ll have a little bit of fruit, and then I’ll be out of your hair—” he stops abruptly and his expression immediately turns to one of disbelief on seeing the table. 

Khánh meets his gaze guiltily. “I think I may have gotten a little carried away…” they say, gesturing at the small mountain of longan before them. “Oh, but this is dessert! I mean, it doesn’t _have_ to be after the meal, but I forgot to prepare something for after our dinner, so it might as well be dessert. You should definitely try one now, though!” They hold up one of the little fruits with a bashful smile. 

“I…” Kai trails off. He stares at Khánh for a minute, gray eyes meeting Khánh’s own brown ones and having a silent conversation that not even Khánh themself is privy to, and then the distinct sound of his belly growling breaks the tension. Kai reddens, awkwardly touching his stomach. “Okay.” 

As Kai steps closer, Khánh’s heart is suddenly pounding and they don’t know why. They don’t have any time to question it, though, because Kai is leaning down, and _down_ (and _why_ hadn’t Khánh noticed before how very tall Kai is?), until his lips reach the fruit in Khánh’s outstretched fingers, deftly popping it into his mouth without ever touching their hand. 

_“Oh!”_ he says, chewing blissfully. “You’re right, this _is_ good.” 

“Ah—yes, I suppose it is, isn’t it?” Khánh stammers. “Anyway, dinner’s inside. Come in and wash your hands! I’ll get this all cleaned up and meet you there.” So saying, they grab the colander of longan and flee into the house.

As they dump the peels and pits of longan into the trash and tip the prepared fruits into a bowl, their heart slowly returns to a steady rhythm. Maybe it had been too hot out there? Khánh really doesn’t know what came over them. They hope they’re not getting sick.

Kai appears in the doorway, their shirt slung over their shoulder, a loose black tank top underneath. “Is there somewhere I can hang my shirt? I got really sweaty out there and I want to let it dry.”

“Clothesline. In the laundry room,” Khánh chokes out, mouth suddenly dry. Their heart is doing that thing again. Perhaps they should make a doctor’s appointment to check this out, make sure there’s nothing serious going on with them.

“Thanks,” Kai says gratefully. Khánh hears the water in the bathroom sink turn on as Kai washes his hands as well. It’s a welcome break, allowing Khánh to calm down. 

When Kai returns, he surveys the spread on the table. “Is, uh, anyone else coming for dinner? This is kind of a lot.”

Khánh shakes their head. “I _may_ have a bit of a problem,” they admit. “But we can split the leftovers, if there are any!”

Kai looks skeptical at the prospect of _no_ leftovers being an option but seems to decide that this is a conversation not worth pursuing. He sighs, then takes a seat at the table.

That’s Khánh’s cue. They begin by pointing out each topping, explaining the slices of chilled Vietnamese sausage, fried Vietnamese sausage, and fried tofu strips. They then move directly into demonstration mode. Lifting one of the loose sheets of bánh ướt, they lay the rice crêpe on their plate. Khánh puts a slice of each topping on their own plate, then grabs some of the herbs and sprinkles them on top. A spoon of nước mắm over top to round out the whole thing with sour fish sauce, and “...that’s it! Bon apétit!” 

Khánh takes a bite and is instantly lost in the soft texture of the rice crêpe combined with the cold slice of giò lụa that comes with it, the flavor of the Vietnamese pork sausage working wonderfully with that of the herbs and fish sauce. “Mmm,” they moan, then look up to see if Kai enjoys the meal as much as they do.

He’s staring again, his face red. Khánh makes a mental note to send him home with some aloe vera for that sunburn. “Is it not to your liking?” they ask, worried.

“Ah, I haven’t tried it yet,” Kai hurriedly says. He stuffs a bite into his mouth, then gives his own enthusiastic hum of pleasure. “This is amazing! What did you say the difference was between this uh, bánh ướt and the other one? And what are those little black bits in it?”

Khánh smiles in relief and shows him how the bánh cuốn are pre-rolled, unlike bánh ướt, and also filled with slices of wood ear mushrooms that are cooked into the batter. This starts a conversation about the many types of mushrooms, and after he has had seconds and thirds, Kai ends up pulling up a list on Google so the two of them can rate every mushroom on how tasty it looks.

“I’ve never had any mushrooms with a texture like the wood ears,” Kai muses. “I feel like my world was so small before and I never knew it. You’ve made it a tiny bit bigger.” A small smile graces Kai’s lips.

Khánh beams. “That’s a very kind thing to say. It’s my pleasure to see you enjoy the food I cook and learn your likes and dislikes at the same time. And I _am_ taking notes.” They laugh at the incredulous look on Kai’s face. “Just kidding.” That’s a teensy bit of a lie. Khánh isn’t taking _written_ notes, but they do make a point to remember what Kai relishes most. Tonight’s winner seemed to be the cold giò lụa. _Just like me_ , they think happily.

“Still, this is way more than the bit of fence repair I did last time, and I didn’t get around to watering your garden either. But I really should go home and work…”

Khánh gives a little pout.

“... so I guess I’ll just have to come back another day.”

Their mouth curves upwards at the corners. “Yes, I suppose you will.”

  
  
Drawn by toutcequonveut  


**BONUS SKETCH**  
  
Drawn by toutcequonveut 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Coworker: Someone’s in a good mood. Are you humming?
> 
> Kai: Well not anymore. Mic off now.
> 
> Coworker: Oh come on, we’re friends aren’t we?”
> 
> Kai, internally: ??? We are???


	5. Bún chả giò - Rice noodles with fried spring rolls

Something pulls Kai back to Khanh’s place again (and again and again).

It’s definitely because Kai owes Khanh, a _lot_. 

(Guiltily, it’s because Khanh’s food is so good and filling.)

Kai has fixed the front fence, the garden, the front gutters. He’d at least returned the bottle of aloe vera they’d given him for some reason, so that debt is off his conscience. Now, the biggest thing in the front left are the windows. He knows they let light inside to the kitchen where Khanh works, but they could be _better_.

And so Kai puts all his effort into cleaning the outside windows. It’ll probably be the last thing he does, because the back garden seems to be off-grounds, and wouldn’t it be weird to let a stranger (him) into Khanh’s house?

(...Nevermind that Kai _has_ been inside to _eat dinner_ with them.)

But it _does_ mean that Kai needs to clean the windows as effectively and quickly as possible, so he can leave before dinner (and before his traitorous mind can daydream that Khanh will offer him something to eat). Thankfully, Kai has a lot of experience cleaning windows from past jobs, and so he gets done before the sun can go down.

He pours the final bucket of grey water down the large sink in the laundry room on the side of the house, and heads to the front again.

He spies Khanh standing by the front door, and starts, “Hey, I’m finished, so—”

Khanh turns to face him, a heart-stopping smile and with a plate of food—fried spring rolls—in their hands. “I know, _thank you!_ It’s a bit early for dinner, but these are for you!”

Kai sucks in a sharp breath, and it sounds like a hiss. _No, I’m uneven **again**!_

“These are chả giò or Vietnamese egg rolls. Or fried spring rolls. Or, if you ask a hilariously uninformed relative of mine, _imperial_ rolls,” Khanh says, stepping towards Kai. “It’s still light out, do you want to eat outside? Or should I pack it into a box for you? I have rice vermicelli noodles and salad and fish sauce that we can eat it with, in which case it becomes bún chả giò.”

The traitor that is Kai’s stomach grumbles. “...Yes please.”

Khanh frowns and smiles at the same time. “You’ll eat outside with me?”

Kai nods slowly. “If you let me help move things from the kitchen out here.” Which is the _tiniest_ thing Kai can do. He needs to come up with something else to do…

They prepare their bowls of food inside—well, Khanh does, in-between asking whether each ingredient is fine: green lettuce and rice vermicelli sits in the large bowls, then is topped with fresh mung bean sprouts, cucumber slices, pickled carrots, fresh cilantro and basil, chopped peanuts, green onions, and of course, the sliced up fried spring rolls. The nước chấm—fish sauce, water, sugar, lime and chillies—is spooned generously on top.

“It’s light enough that the dipping sauce is almost a soup,” Khanh says as they spoon more on top. “The dipping sauce is called nước chấm.”

Kai dutifully repeats until Khanh declares his pronunciation satisfactory, then helps carry the completed bowls, utensils, drinks, and extra spring rolls to the table in the front garden.

Kai tries the fried spring rolls first, because it’s vaguely familiar. Except, it’s _nothing_ like the so-called spring rolls he’s had before. These are crispy and light and the filling is deep and umami and flavourful. In the remaining warmth of the day, the sun only now starting to dip, the entire dish is like salad, but _better_. It’s refreshing and cool—the spring rolls are still warm, in counterbalance. It’s... _amazing_ how good the nước chấm tastes, and Kai’s starting to think that maybe adding fish sauce to every savoury dish could be the key to great tasting food, given how prominently it has appeared in the food Khanh’s made.

Kai slurps up the last of the noodles, and the savoury liquid that has pooled at the bottom of his bowl.

Khanh smiles, propping their head against the back of their hand as they watch him. “There’s more. And if you’re not sick of mangoes, I could cut some up for dessert. With vanilla ice cream.”

“Oh, um, ah, you don’t have to…”

Khanh’s smile is entirely too disarming for their own good, Kai thinks.

“That means you _do_ want dessert,” Khanh says. “Come inside.”

Kai dutifully follows Khanh inside. Kai mutinously does the dishes while Khanh slices up the mango and prepares two small bowls. Kai catches a glimpse of the stock-full freezer as Khanh takes out the ice cream, and the _extremely_ packed fridge when they take out an open can of coconut milk.

Khanh prepares the ice cream, cubes of mango, and drizzle of coconut milk so prettily that Kai doesn’t really want to ruin it.

“Are you _sure_ you don’t do food arrangement and photography?” Kai says, strained, as he turns his small bowl this way and that.

Khanh’s brows furrow. “...You don’t like coconut milk? I’m sorry, I didn’t ask—”

“No, I do!” Kai says quickly. “Thank you. Seriously. Thank you…”

“There’s no need to say thank you,” Khanh says. “As long as you enjoy it, is thanks enough.”

Kai nods in determination. Alright, he’ll enjoy everything Khanh makes!

“...But _do_ tell me if you don’t enjoy something.”

No way, Kai’s not going to do _that_. He doesn’t think he’ll need to do that, anyway. He digs into the dessert, and it all melts in his mouth.

The mango is ripe and sweet, and combined with the ice cream and coconut reminds Kai of the soon-coming summer days. Kai’s eating slows as he savours the mango.

Hot summer days…heralding a surgery date that has been long coming.

Khanh’s brows twitch in askance, and Kai quickly smiles back.

“I haven’t had such good mango before,” he says. “Thank you—I know, I know, no thank-yous, just enjoyment.”

Khanh’s smile widens. “Very good,” they say.

Kai’s lips twitch up in response.

It _is_ good, and when Kai leaves, he uses the memory to help him through his dreary work.

  
  
Art by toutcequonveut  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Pirate Kai crows in triumph. He’s done it! He’s found the treasure!  
> He pries open the chest and discovers it full of cut mango. There’s a little note on top.  
> Pirate Khánh, some distance away, sneezes as Pirate Kai curses them for always being one step ahead of him.  
> Pirate Khánh doesn’t care because they have treasure. They hope Pirate Kai enjoys the gift they left him.


	6. Bánh bèo - Vietnamese steamed savoury rice cakes

It takes Khánh a moment to realize that someone is knocking at the door. They step carefully out of their ring of various frozen foods and open the door to greet Kai. 

“Hey,” he greets. “I can’t really see much to be done out front, and I already watered your garden, so I just wanted to see if—what _is_ all of that?”

Khánh follows the direction of Kai’s gaze to the pile of frozen goods and sighs. “I am currently engaged in battle with my freezer,” they admit. “Sadly, I don’t think I’ll be coming out on top.”

Kai reddens for some reason but clears his throat and asks, “What’s the issue? Maybe I can help.” 

“Why don’t you take a look for yourself?” Khánh bends down to find a pair of guest slippers and motions for Kai to exchange his dirty sneakers for them.

Together, the two make their way to the source of Khánh’s suffering today. The freezer has, at some point unbeknownst to them, decided to produce enough ice that the pork fat Khánh had gotten on sale and wanted to freeze would absolutely not fit. All that ice is taking up precious real estate! How can Khánh be expected to _survive_ the horror of having to actually _use up_ the things in their freezer! 

“Um,” Kai starts. “When was the last time you actually, uh, defrosted your fridge?”

“Why would I do that?” Khánh replies blankly. The last time the fridge has been anything approaching warm was during the short blackout caused by a nasty storm a couple months ago. 

Kai looks as if his eyes are about to bulge out of his face. “You mean you’ve _never_ unplugged it to clean out the ice? How long have you been living here?”

“I can’t say I have, no. And I moved in about three years ago.”

“Right.” Kai claps his hands together. “Right. I was going to ask if there was anything else I could do for you outside, but I’ve decided. I’m defrosting and cleaning your freezer. And fridge too, while I’m at it.”

“Why would you need to do the fridge too?” Khánh asks, confused.

“I might as well, if the whole thing is going to be unplugged anyway. Besides, I bet you haven’t seen the surface of the shelves in three years.”

Khánh blushes a little because Kai is right on the dot. “Can I help with anything?”

Kai opens and closes his mouth, then opens it again. “That’s not the point,” he says finally. “But you can keep me company, if you want?”

Khánh agrees readily, but of course there is no chance that they can simply sit still while a _guest_ is in their home. At the same time, they realize Kai will probably object. 

That can only mean one thing: stealth cooking.

It’s not a hardship at all to keep conversing with Kai as he methodically removes frozen items from the freezer and sorts them into piles. The freezer faces the window out into the garden, and Kai is intensely focused on his work. At the end of a story about their sisters’ childhood antics, Khánh casually sneaks the container of pork fat from the pile of frozen items. They then launch seamlessly into a story involving some of their small army of cousins, talking while they gather water to soak the dried salted shrimp they nabbed from the pantry. The tactic seems to work, because Kai is too busy laughing to question what Khanh is doing with so much water. 

Khanh silently thanks the builders of this house for their setup (which may be the first time they’ve ever done that, because the house is honestly _weird_ , which is why Khanh had been able to afford it at all). The fridge is in the corner of the kitchen, facing away from the stove across the floor. Behind the stove is a counter with barstools that looks out into the living room, and the cabinets on _that_ side are where Khanh keeps their less-used kitchen appliances including steamer baskets, dozens of tiny dishes, and a camp stove. Those, plus a few more ingredients, and then they’ll be able to sneak outside to make some bánh bèo for their new friend.

The pork and bowl of rehydrating shrimp go on top of that kitchen counter behind the stove, innocently blending in with the clutter of things that permanently seems to live all over Khánh’s house. In short order, bags of rice flour and tapioca flour, the salt shaker, a bottle of vegetable oil, a couple plates, a large bowl, and a ladle join them. There’s just one more thing now, and it requires clever timing because the knives and cutting boards are kept on the bit of counter right next to the refrigerator. Khánh lies in wait, conversing easily as Kai tells a story of his own, and when he leans his head fully into the now-empty freezer, Khánh seizes their chance! Simultaneously, they snatch the chef’s knife from the block and slide a big wooden cutting board out from its resting place. Heart pounding at their incredible sneakiness, Khánh does their best not to sprint as they carry away their prize. Sudden movements are suspicious, casual walking is not: this is a core tenet learned from growing up with lots of siblings.

Once they are safely on the other side of the counter, Khánh hides everything on the barstools and announces, “I’m going to nip outside for a bit to tend the back garden. Do you need anything?” 

Kai pops his head out of the freezer. “Do you have a hammer or some kind of chisel? This ice is really stuck. Oh, and do you have some coolers?”

Khánh gets him settled with the requested items as well as a speaker and the Wi-Fi password in case he wants to listen to something. Finally, they are able to abscond with their materials out the French doors that lead from the living room onto Khánh’s extensive deck. Here, on the wrought-iron deck table, they set up their workstation. It takes a couple of trips to get everything, including one nerve-wracking moment where they realize they’d forgotten a pot and frying pan and have to venture back into the kitchen.

But everything is ready to begin cooking now. Khánh allows themself one evil laugh to celebrate how very stealthy they are, then gets started. The empty bowl gets the rice flour, tapioca flour, and salt. Khánh uses the door from the deck to the master bedroom to get water from the bathroom, then adds the water and a bit of oil to the batter. Once it’s the right consistency, they set it aside to work on the toppings. 

Khánh fries the pork fat first. In the meantime, they drain and rinse the shrimp and chop it finely. When the pork fat is finished, they remove it and fry the shrimp in the leftover oil. The resulting smell is mouthwatering, and Khánh can’t wait until Kai tries it. 

There’s still about an hour for the batter to settle, so Khánh wanders back inside to chat with Kai. He’s finished chipping the ice off the freezer and is currently washing and drying each shelf and drawer from the refrigerator. Khánh tries to help but is summarily rejected. They smile placidly. Kai will get fed soon enough, though he doesn’t know it yet. Khánh resists the urge to laugh evilly once more, but just barely. 

An hour passes quickly as the two of them talk about everything and nothing. Khánh hasn’t felt like this in a long time. The easy camaraderie with another human being physically present is like an emotional salve to Khánh’s people-starved soul. They’re a little afraid that they’re latching onto Kai because he’s the first friend-shaped company Khánh has had in three lonely years. On the other hand, Kai is _amazing_. He clearly has a strong work ethic and sense of duty, seeing how often he’s come by to try and repay Khánh for things they don’t even consider favors. And his wit and humor make for enjoyable dinners, not even counting his infectious love for the food Khánh makes. 

Khánh would be honored to call Kai their friend, and they hope Kai feels the same way.

When the hour is up, Khánh excuses themself and returns to the deck. They pour out the top layer of yellowish water, add clean water, then let out a huge breath of determination. Now it’s time for the completely improvised part. Khánh thinks longingly of the large steamer pot that is stored on top of the freezer and could not safely be obtained for stealth cooking. They aren’t sure if this alternative method is going to work, but if the Youtuber Ms. Yeah can steam a whole course of dim sum over a coffee pot in an office, Khánh can probably use bamboo steamer baskets over a pot of boiling water to make bánh bèo. 

They start water boiling over the camp stove and arrange the little plates in each steamer basket. When the water is boiling fiercely, letting up clouds of steam, Khánh ladles the batter into the plates and sets the baskets atop the pot. While that’s cooking, they venture into the garden again in search of some nice herbs to lighten the meal. 

The rice cakes are soon steamed to perfection. Khánh sprinkles the toppings, half shrimp, half pork cracklings, and carries in the baskets just as Kai is making his way around the barstools.

“I was just coming to say I’d finished putting everything back—oh no.”

Khánh smiles beatifically. “I made snacks! Thanks for your hard work.”

Kai looks like he’s about to smack his face but thinks better of it. “I’m… looking forward to it. I’ll go wash my hands.”

“Now you’re getting the hang of it.” 

Setting the baskets of precious cargo on the table, Khanh nips out to grab the fresh herbs, then goes about mixing together some nước chấm from fish sauce, sugar, and chilies. Kai helps set the table, then sits and looks expectantly at Khánh.

“This,” they proclaim, holding up one of the tiny dishes, “is bánh bèo.”

“Bánh bèo,” Kai repeats, doing his best to mimic the tones as he does every time.

Khánh nods in approval. “It’s like a steamed rice cake, topped with shrimp or fried pork fat. To eat it, you add a little of the nước chấm—like so—and then use a spoon to eat it. I like to eat them whole.” Khánh demonstrates and gives a happy sigh as the flavors combine on their tongue. The workaround had worked! The texture isn’t too rubbery at all. They swallow and look to see if Kai is enjoying his own yet.

Kai blinks a couple times, then reaches for his spoon to try a dish of his own. “Oh!” he exclaims in surprise. “It’s similar to the texture of the, the bánh cuốn, but it’s got an entirely different flavor profile, and the pork is so crunchy.” He chews slowly and swallows before announcing, “I want to try the other kind now!”

That inner warmth begins to glow again, the one that Khánh feels whenever they watch Kai enthuse about the food they cooked for him. As they continue to eat and talk and laugh, Khánh thinks, _I could get used to this._

  
  
Art by toutcequonveut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Coworker: Soooo what’d you have for dinner?
> 
> Kai: Are you coming on to me? I should report you.
> 
> Coworker: No, I just like to hear about food, okay? My wife is still nauseous at any kind of remotely oily food and we’ve been eating salads for every meal for like two months. Not just any salad though— _beet_ salads! With kale! Every meal!
> 
> Kai: ...I had Vietnamese food.
> 
> Coworker: Oh my god tell me all about it.


	7. Gỏi - Vietnamese salad

It had been an innocent question. Kai truly had not realized there _was_ a back garden until Khanh mentioned going out there to do their stealth cooking.

Kai had not expected the answer. No, there is not a back garden. There is a back _forest_. Kai wants to turn to Khanh and give them a stern, exasperated look.

Except Khanh isn’t in the back forest—they aren’t even in the house. 

Last visit, Kai had expressed intent to work on the back garden.

 _“Oh, I’ll be out tomorrow,”_ Khanh had said.

 _“Then the next day after_ —?”

_“No need, here’s the spare key!”_

And Kai had been too shocked to do anything but accept the set of front and back door keys _to Khanh’s house_.

Kai had thought maybe he could have gotten Khanh’s number instead to coordinate a time, but no, Khanh just _had_ to give Kai their spare keys.

Which leads to Kai’s current predicament: he is dressed in rugged boots and old clothes, not as ready to tackle the back so-called-garden as he had expected.

Kai gives an exasperated sigh nonetheless, and proverbially rolls up his sleeves. He is _not_ going to betray Khanh’s trust.

First thing is to clear large debris and miscellaneous decrepit outdoor furniture. Then, he’ll attempt to mow the grass…

The sun is warm in the sky, approaching hot as the afternoon sets in. Sweat clings to Kai’s skin, and his binder starts to feel tight and confining instead of comforting. He stops work, surveying the results of his efforts so far: two piles of old outdoor furniture in ‘could be fixed’ and ‘beyond help’, a square-ish patch of open lawn, and the slow uncovering of old flowerbeds along the perimeter of the garden.

Kai isn’t going to _assume_ that Khanh isn’t a flower kind of person, but he would bet that a herb garden would be much more up their alley. He’ll have to buy some fertilizer, and move the old divider stones to expand the herb-garden space. Maybe Kai _could_ plant flowers—the edible ones.

A well of anticipation builds in Kai’s chest, as does a tightness that isn’t related to his binder. The garden could, _would_ , look so nice in the future, once Kai is done with it. It would be so nice to sit back here, facing the greenery instead of the road in the front garden.

For now though, Kai desperately needs a drink. He navigates into the kitchen, aiming for some tap water—

There is a sticky note by the tap.

_Dear Kai, I have left sugar cane juice and salad (gỏi) in the fridge. Please help yourself! –Khanh._

Kai blinks, bewildered. He heads to the fridge: there’s another sticky note:

 _Dear Kai, the jug of sugar cane juice is next to the milk, and the gỏi is on the shelf just behind this door~ –Khanh_.

Inside, there’s the jug of pale yellow sugar cane juice: _Dear Kai, sugar cane juice! Enjoy –Khanh_. On the fridge shelf as promised, there are two containers with sticky notes.

On the larger glass container, the sticky note says:

_Dear Kai, this gỏi contains shrimp, peanuts, and đồ chua (mix of pickled carrots and daikon), cabbage and capsicum. There is some rice in the rice cooker, but it can be eaten alone! –Khanh_

There’s also a smaller cylindrical container with a note:

 _Pour this extra dressing on top, toss and enjoy! ♡ –Khanh_.

Kai’s heart skips a beat. No way, that can’t be what it says!

His eyes narrow. He rubs his eyes, then looks at the last note again.

No, Kai’s eyes don’t deceive him. There really is a _heart_ there. What did they mean by that?

Kai quickly snaps back into the present, taking out the items and closing the fridge door. He tips the container of salad into a large bowl and tosses the extra dressing as instructed. He pours himself a glass of sugarcane juice. He takes a seat.

He restrains himself from touching that last sticky note again and takes a bite of the gỏi instead.

The shrimp are firm but soft—not that crunchy texture of cheap shrimp. There’s obviously fish sauce, but also the brightness of lemon and pickled vegetables. The capsicum slices are surprisingly juicy, and the peanuts bring a delightful crunch. Overall, the entire dish is refreshing and cooling, perfect for the heat of the day.

Kai takes a sip of the sugarcane juice and tries not to choke up. 

How can Khanh be so _nice?_ So _selfless?_ How could they think of Kai so much? In his mind’s eye, he can see Khanh in this kitchen, preparing all of this for Kai, writing those little notes, that smile on their face...

Kai clenches his fist. He’s _powered up_ now. He’s going to tackle that back garden! He’s going to make it the best back garden ever!

  
Art drawn by toutcequonveut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Khanh skips merrily through the forest, dropping breadcrumbs along the way to mark their trail. Kai walks along after them and spray paints large X’s in the grass so they can actually find their way back. Neither of them lose their way and get taken in by a witch who wants to eat them.


	8. Bánh tiêu - Vietnamese hollow donut

Khánh returns the next morning, opens the front door, and immediately falls on their butt. 

The wall opposite the front door is absolutely _covered_ in sticky notes, carefully overlapping so that the thick lines of sharpie over top don’t bleed through to the wall beneath. The top half is a large depiction of someone flipping a table (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻, and the bottom simply says _I’ve been tricked! –Kai_.

Khánh instinctively looks left towards the kitchen and, yes, there is a trail of sticky notes similar to the one they had left to guide Kai to the snack they’d left him. 

_You said back GARDEN!_ the first one reads.

 _Well, I’ve weeded about half of the_ forest _you have back there_ , reads the second, with a helpful diagram of a bunch of trees.

_It’s going to be an absolutely beautiful space once I’m finished with it (•̀o•́)ง_

_But that will take another day or two._

_Because it’s a_ forest _!!!_

Khánh chuckles to themself as they peel that last sticky note off a cabinet. They hadn’t thought to warn him because Kai is clearly determined to “even the score”. Khánh had honestly thought his determination meant he already knew about the state of the back garden, but apparently not. 

They’ll have to cook something nice to make it up to Kai, of course. 

Turning to the fridge to gather ingredients, Khánh finds a different path of sticky notes, carefully noting the exact ways Kai had loved the gỏi. That puts a fond smile on their face, one that doesn’t go away the entire time they are cooking.

Later that afternoon, Khánh catches Kai crunching down the path to the back garden. Hurriedly, they open the window and shout, “Come inside first!”

Kai raises one eyebrow. “I’m not so sure I can trust that you haven’t converted the inside to a forest without telling me.”

Khánh puts one hand over their heart. “I solemnly swear that all forests are safely contained in the back garden only. And yes, it’s a _garden_.”

Kai grins widely. “You definitely fooled me, then.” He walks up to the side door, and Khánh closes the window and hurries over to the doorway to greet him.

“You’re going to need to keep your energy up if you’re going to work back there again, so I’ve made a pre-work snack!” Khánh beams and flings both arms wide to encompass what they’ve spent much of the afternoon working on. “It also doubles as a small apology for blindsiding you.”

Kai’s mouth has dropped open at the mound of bánh tiêu on the table. The perfectly golden brown outsides are studded heavily with sesame seeds and are still lightly steaming. Khánh picks one up and breaks it open, releasing a puff of heavenly, yeasty steam that spills upwards in a delicious cloud. “It’s called bánh tiêu! Sometimes described as Vietnamese donut, though I think these are much better than Western donuts. I’ve also made some fresh-squeezed orange juice!”

Kai finds his voice then. “All that sugar might send me straight into a sugar crash instead,” he cautions.

“Try just one piece while it’s warm,” Khánh urges. They extend the hand holding half the bánh tiêu.

Hesitantly, Kai accepts the offering and inhales the fragrant steam. “It smells delicious…” He takes a bite, and his eyes light up. “Oh, it’s not very sweet at all! The outside is so nice and crunchy, but the inside is soft and doughy.”

“I know!” Khánh smiles widely. “This was one of my favorite snacks growing up.”

Kai eagerly finishes the rest, then looks regretfully at the rest of the mound. “I really shouldn’t eat any more than this until after I finish working outside, but they might be my favorite snack now too. Bánh tiêu?”

Khánh corrects his pronunciation slightly, then Kai dismisses himself to go to the backyard. 

Just before he gets to the door, he turns back and cocks an eyebrow. “Well? Are you coming? I can’t be expected to entertain myself, you know.” 

He ends the question with a wink to signify that he’s just being playful, and Khánh’s heart skips a beat again. What _is_ wrong with their body? Maybe they really should book that doctor’s appointment… 

Shoving that thought aside, Khánh responds, “Of course, your highness.” With a genuine smile of their own, they follow their friend outside.

Art drawn by toutcequonveut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Coworker: Ugh that last client was a huge pain. Hope this one is better.
> 
> Kai: Eh, it’s not as bad as falling in a pile of poison ivy and thinking you’re fine only to find out that you really, really are not fine.
> 
> Coworker: ...are you okay??
> 
> Kai: Just did some yardwork today. I’m fine.
> 
> Coworker: It really doesn’t sound like you are!!


	9. Bún thịt nướng - Rice noodles with grilled pork

It’s now been over a week since Kai started his Herculean project, coming back to Khanh’s again and again. And now, with the afternoon still ahead of him, he’s finished. He wipes the sweat off his forehead with his arm, and surveys the renovated back garden.

Truthfully, all of this had cost money. Even now, thinking about _how_ Kai got that money makes him cringe.

The answer is Khanh, of course. Kai hadn’t even asked! Khanh had just tapped his shoulder one afternoon and presented a stack of $20 dollar notes—a $100 in total.

“It’s too much!” Kai had protested, pushing their hand back.

Khanh had tilted their head. And then pulled out some more notes.

“Khanh, no, really—”

“Is this enough?” Khanh had said, smiling sweetly, tucking _another_ $100 into Kai’s hand.

Kai had clicked his teeth together and shook his head. He grudgingly accepted the money—if he kept protesting, Khanh might have given him even more! With that $200 though, Kai has been able to stretch it, resulting in the frankly wonderful garden.

Instead of overgrown grass and weeds, there is order in the garden. New tree saplings and garden beds of vegetables now lie in neat rows along the back fence. Kai has also moved Khanh’s original herbs and replanted them in the garden beds. Bright edible flowers fill the spaces in between, especially around the pond.

—A pond that Kai hadn’t realised existed. It had been so obscured by algae and scum and muck! But now, Kai has installed a miniature waterfall and central floating fountain. With the water features, the water will be kept moving and not stagnant as before. With that, there will hopefully be no mosquito infestation to bug Khanh.

And by the fence near the pond, Kai has acquired a bench, as well as a trellis with baby tomato and pea plants beneath it, completing that corner of the garden.

Feeling pleased and accomplished, Kai turns towards the house, stepping up onto the back-garden deck and heading towards the back door. He is intent on telling Khanh that he’s finished and that there is no more _real_ reason for Kai to hang around—

Khanh’s standing right there when Kai opens the door. Kai almost jumps back in shock.

“Thank you for opening the door,” Khanh says, their arms full with a loaded tray.

Kai’s eyes grow wide. “Is that…?”

“Perfect weather for a barbeque,” Khanh says brightly. They set the tray down on the table by the barbeque and start a small fire with some newspaper and charcoal in a metal chimney starter.

“But—ughhh….” Kai dissolves into a groan. “You really don’t have to do this,” he says, almost pleading. And also wondering why he’s trying to reject Khanh’s cooking when in reality he’ll always say yes to Khanh.

Khanh smiles beatifically. “It’ll be delicious, don’t you worry!”

_That’s not what I’m worried about!_

Khanh tips the burning charcoal into half of the barbeque and puts the grill back on top.

Despite himself, Kai wanders over. “What are you making?”

“This is marinated pork,” Khanh promptly answers as they check the grill’s temperature. When they are satisfied, they transfer the pork chops over. “The dish we will be having is called bún thịt nướng—literally, noodles with grilled meat. It’s a bit like the bún chả giò from a few weeks ago, but instead of the chả giò—the fried spring rolls—it’s grilled pork.”

Kai nods: already, a lovely fragrant smell is arising from the grilling meat.

Khanh pokes at the meat a little, but then shakes their head. “It’ll take a bit to cook.”

“...I could show you your new garden?”

Khanh’s eyes light up. “Oh, yes please!”

Despite his complaints, it’s not that big a garden, so Kai gives them a thorough tour, naming the new vegetables and flowers he’d planted, and how often to water them.

Khanh seems delighted by the water features. “Look at them!” They crouch down by the pond and stick their hand into the water fountain, laughing. “It tickles!’

Kai’s heart skips a beat. “I. Um. Glad you like it.”

“Hmm.” Khanh looks at the flowers around the pond and bends over to pick a pale blue one. They stand up, approaching Kai.

Kai freezes, and continues to be frozen as Khanh tucks the flower over Kai’s ear.

“It matches your shirt,” Khanh says, nodding to themself.

Kai’s eyes widen. Fuck! What should he do now? Should he pick a flower for Khanh too? But then he needs to pick the best flower!! Which flower is the best? Which one would be the most suitable? What would Kai even _say_ —

“Oh, smell that? It’s just about done now!” Khanh walks with a bounce in their step back to the barbeque. “I’ll have to slice it up before it can be served,” they say, moving the grilled pork onto a metal tray to rest. They close the barbeque lid and vents, effectively turning off the fire.

There are other ingredients on the tray, too, in covered containers: the familiar pickled carrot and daikon and a lot of fresh greens and herbs.

Khanh tilts their head. “Go and wash up, Kai, I’ll prepare the dishes.”

“...If you say so,” Kai says. Despite his words, he’s greatly anticipating the food. So Kai heads inside to wash his hand and face. He also notices the jug of ice lemon water, and so carries that out with two glasses, and sets them on the table on the deck.

Khanh is carrying the tray of food towards the table too. “Oh, thanks for getting that, I forgot!” they say. The meat is now all sliced up, and there are two large bowls, filled with rice noodles, the various toppings, and the sliced meat. Khanh pours a generous amount of nước chấm over their bowl, and Kai follows suit.

“Thank you,” Kai says, breathing in deeply. The smoky, charred, savoury scent of the grilled meat is extremely enticing.

“You’re welcome,” Khanh says. “But you don’t have to say thank you! Aren’t we good friends now?”

Kai is about to eat—luckily he hadn’t bit down yet, or else he would have choked. “Yeah—yes, of course,” he says.

“There is no accounting between friends,” Khanh says seriously. “Go on.” Khanh brandishes their chopsticks and takes the first bite of their food.

Kai goes in for the meat first: the taste is just as good as it smells; the meat is tender and fatty and juicy, and its deep flavour is contrasted nicely with the bright sourness of the pickled vegetables and the summery-freshness of of the salad and herbs, and even the rice noodles taste cooling. After a hot day working, this meal hits exactly the right spot.

“How do you know how to cook so much?” Kai has to wonder. “It’s so good. You could open a restaurant!”

Khanh laughs a little, their cheeks reddening. “I’m glad you’re enjoying my cooking, Kai. It’s just home cooking, though. More importantly, did I say how lucky I am that you planted _edible_ flowers?”

Now it’s Kai’s turn for his cheeks to red. “Well, I thought, the herbs and vegetables are edible so…”

“Where did you buy it all from?”

“Oh, I visited…” Kai tells them about all the nurseries he’d visited, getting the best deals. Their conversation moves onto plants and other matters that Kai cannot really remember, but enjoys nonetheless. After the meal, they have fruit for dessert, relaxing on the back garden veranda and admiring the new garden.

Eventually, though, Kai returns home. Once he’s back in his dingy flat, the first thing he does is press the flower that Khanh gave him.

  
Art drawn by toutcequonveut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Little Red Riding Kai arrives at his destination only to find a large wolf wearing an apron standing in the doorway!
> 
> “What big eyes you have!” Kai exclaims.
> 
> “All the better to see you with,” replies wolf-Khánh.
> 
> “What large teeth you have!”
> 
> “Perfect for the meal we’re about to have,” the wolf stretches their mouth into a wide smile. “Why don’t you come in…”
> 
> Before Kai can resist, he’s being ushered into the dining table. He begins to sweat nervously, fearing that _he_ will be the main course, when suddenly they round a corner to find a table laden with so many dishes it’s sagging. 
> 
> Kai: ???
> 
> Wolf-Khánh, sitting down and tucking a napkin over their lap: “I worked hard preparing such a feast for you. Let’s eat!”


	10. Gỏi cuốn tôm thịt - Vietnamese spring rolls with shrimp and pork

After a perfect barbeque, Khánh watches Kai leave with a glass container filled with leftovers of bún. On the front stoop, he turns back and promises, “I’ll be back in a few days to power wash and stain your deck. I ended up putting off a lot of work for my job so I could get everything done here, so it might take a bit longer for me to get over here than usual.”

“Oh, but you don’t have to…” Khánh trails off. “Wait a minute, you said you had to put off your work just to fix up my back garden for me?”

Kai winks at them. “No accounting between friends, remember? I _wanted_ to do all this for you.” He starts walking off, box in hand, and gives a very cool backwards wave. “I’ll see you soon, Khanh.”

Which leaves Khánh all _kinds_ of flustered, and they have no idea why. Was it just the backwards wave move? They _had_ watched a lot of anime in their younger years, so maybe it was just their brain reacting instinctively to a classic shoujo love interest move. Or, more likely, the heat of the grill had gotten to them, and they need to drink some water.

They put aside whatever strange feeling had come over them and go inside to do just that.

Two weeks and four days later, Kai comes tromping up the path to the back garden.

Khánh hurriedly opens one of the kitchen windows and calls out, “Kai! Come look! It’s the most wonderful thing!” They gesture to the back garden, then hurriedly throw on some shoes to make their way outside.

Kai is standing in the backyard, gazing at the miraculous garden and source of Khánh’s excitement. “Isn’t it wonderful?” they exclaim. “Thank you so much for doing this for me!”

Kai’s mouth tilts upward. “No thank yous, remember?”

Khánh smiles back. “I’ll just have to make you a filling meal with leftovers every time, then.”

The two spend an endless moment smiling at each other. Kai is the one who breaks it off first, turning to the side with a cough. “So, why don’t you show me what exactly has you all excited?”

“Oh yes!” Khánh takes off to the herb garden that seems to have doubled in height in the two weeks Kai hasn’t been here. “The basil section is getting along quite nicely, though Ms. Sweet Basil here has been quite _naughty_ and keeps trying to put out flowers even though it is _not_ the time for that. Thaisil, on the other hand, is very polite, though she’s still much smaller than Ms. Sweet Basil over here. At least she’s making more leaves, though. And I’m not sure what’s going on with Cinnamonil, but she’s _very_ excited to be on this side of the garden now, as you can see… why are you looking at me like that?”

“Did you… name _all_ your plants?”

“Well, of course! It’s only polite, don’t you think?” Khánh gestures broadly at the plants. “They are _guests_ of my garden!”

“Naturally,” Kai agrees, and his mouth is tilted upwards at the corners. “What were you saying about Thaisil?”

Khánh continues down the rows, pointing out the new growth they’ve been monitoring ever since Kai replanted their garden. The pepper plants have been most robust, closely followed by the tomato and lettuce plants. The beans and cucumbers are just starting to wind their way out of the ground, but Khánh knows they’ll soon outgrow the others in the next few weeks. The eggplant and squash plants haven’t shown the same explosive growth as the others, but they don’t look miserable either, so there’s that.

Besides the vegetable plot is the herb plot, which is filled with all sorts of tasty leaves that are just about ready to eat… hmm.

“Kai.” 

“Yes?”

“How do you feel about making your _own_ food today?”

Kai’s smile freezes in place. “Uh, y-yeah, of course! Do… do you want me to go home now, then? I can come back another day…”

 _What? That wasn’t what they meant at all! Kai can’t leave!_ Panickedly, Khánh assures, “No, no, not like that! I meant, how do you feel about _us_ making food _together._ The dish I have in mind is more of a hands-on experience. Please, stay and share a meal with me!”

Kai protests as usual that he doesn’t need food, but there’s no real heart behind his refusal. He’s clearly relieved at not having been sent away, and guilt gnaws at Khánh’s insides. “Let’s go ahead and get started now, hm?”

“Er, what about the power washing and staining?”

“Oh, right.” Khánh had totally forgotten that Kai isn’t here solely to visit them.

Kai grants them a small smile, and it feels like the sun has come out after a long month of overcast skies. “I look forward to making food with you after I finish.”

Which sends Khánh’s heart all _kinds_ of thumping. They sit down until their body calms down, and Kai starts setting up the power washer Khánh didn’t even know they owned.

The deck is pretty extensive, wrapping all the way around the back of the house, so Kai has a lot of work to do. He won’t let Khánh help, of course, insisting that they just keep him company as he systematically blasts dirt and grime off old wood. At one point Khánh goes inside to prep the ingredients they’ll need. They definitely don’t spend a confusing amount of time peeking out the window, watching the mesmerizing sight of Kai’s methodical work.

Eventually, Kai opens the door to the house and swipes the back of his hand across his forehead. “Khanh! I think that’s it.” He pulls at the collar of his shirt, but it evidently brings no relief because he announces, “Now I’m going to go inside, open the freezer, and stand in front of it for about four hours.”

“Would you be up for making spring rolls now?” Khánh asks, trying not let their eagerness seep into their voice. _Don’t pressure him, you don’t want to drive him away!_

“Yeah, of course” Kai grins crookedly. “How do you think I’ve stayed so motivated this whole time? I’ve been suffering in suspense this whole time trying to think of what culinary monstrosity you’re going to have me create.”

“Oh, it won’t be so bad as all that,” Khánh laughs, waving him off. “Go inside and wash up, then come to the kitchen table.”

While Kai heads into the house, Khánh crosses the yard to harvest the largest leaves of lettuce and several handfuls of Vietnamese mint, perilla, cilantro, and garlic chives. In the kitchen, they wash and dry the leaves. They are just setting the last ingredients on the table when Kai emerges from the bathroom.

“Alright, what have we got then?”

Khánh looks up at him and smiles. “Today we are making gỏi cuốn, or spring rolls, also known as rice paper rolls. They’re one of the most popular Vietnamese foods out there, so naturally, you _will_ be graded on your performance.” They cackle at Kai’s deer-in-the-headlights expression. “Just kidding. Come closer and let me show you what I have.”

They point out the bowls of thin rice noodles, boiled shrimp, thin slices of pork belly, strips of fried tofu, slim slivers of wood ear mushroom, and all the fresh leaves just collected from the garden. Next, they show him the thin sheets of dry rice paper. 

“I’ll make the first one for you to see. What would you like inside yours?”

Kai reddens and replies, “Um, what do you recommend? I’m up for anything.”

“Let’s try a classic one first: shrimp and pork. So you begin by wetting the sheet of bánh tráng, that’s the rice paper here, just a quick dip in and out, then lay it on your plate. Next, you want to arrange your lettuce and herbs nicely, because this part will be visible from the outside. Add the shrimp and pork on this side… a few noodles over top of the leaves… then roll it up! And that’s it!” Khánh holds the plate up for Kai’s inspection. 

Kai gives some appropriately awed responses, then Khánh concludes, “To eat, dip it in some of the peanut sauce here, then just bite into it.” 

“I could probably do that…” Kai trails off. He looks nervous, but determined. “Hand me a plate and one of those sheets. What is it called in Vietnamese again?”

Six minutes later, Kai gazes upon his plate in devastation. The roll isn’t bad, Khánh reflects critically, but Kai is almost certainly comparing his lumpy, uneven roll to Khánh’s practiced, symmetric one. “It’s still edible!” they try to comfort him. 

Kai looks up. Ferociously, he picks up his roll and swipes it in the peanut sauce. The structurally compromised roll comes partially undone, spilling its guts into the sauce bowl, but he pays that no mind and aggressively chomps the gỏi cuốn. “It’s delicious!” he declares emphatically. “And I’m going to keep making them until I get a perfect one! Hand me the tofu, I want to try that next.”

 _Oh dear,_ Khánh thinks. _I see a lot of leftovers in our future._

  
Art drawn by toutcequonveut  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Coworker: What’s gotten into you tonight? You seem a bit snippier than usual.
> 
> Kai: Ugh, nothing.
> 
> Coworker: Thaaaat sounds like something :^)
> 
> Kai: Do you ever get frustrated because you can’t do something that someone else makes look so easy?
> 
> Coworker: ...we literally tutor kids online for money. That exact experience is what keeps the cash coming in. Of course I know that feeling.
> 
> Kai: Oh right…
> 
> Coworker: Well come on then, what’s your problem? Was it a physics thing? It was _always_ physics for me.
> 
> Kai: What? No, it was rice paper spring rolls. It looks so easy to roll them neatly but then when I try they just fall apart
> 
> Kai: Now that I think about it, yes, it _is_ a physics problem!
> 
> Coworker: … that’s not what I meant but okay…


	11. Súp nui - Macaroni soup (PART 1)

Kai hesitates at the gate to Khanh’s house. He doesn’t know if he should go in, because what more can he offer Khanh? At best, he can check on the garden…

_Ughhh_. Kai groans inwardly. He’s been thinking about this for too long, he should just say hi, because they are friends now, and friends _do_ that sort of thing.

So he heads up the front footpath and knocks on the door decisively. He shifts uncomfortably as he waits; usually Khanh is a lot faster than this…

The door finally opens, revealing Khanh. Despite the warmth of the day, Khanh’s nose is red and sniffling, and their eyes are droopy. Still, Khanh gives him a bright smile when they see him.

“Kai! Come in, I should—ahh—” they sniffle. “I’ll cook you something, just let me think.”

“...Khanh, are you okay?” Kai steps right up to them and presses a hand against their forehead. They’re _burning_. “Damn it, get back to bed, I’m not letting you cook!”

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s just hayfever—”

“More emphasis on the _fever_ part!”

“Hmmfff!” Khanh protests, but they are betrayed by the coughing fit that overtakes them just then.

Kai’s heart moves, but he’s not giving way on this matter. “You’re sick. Where’s your bedroom? Do I have to carry you?”

Khanh blinks, their thoughts clearly sluggish. “Huh?”

Kai pushes them, making sure to lock the front door behind him. He shoves them into their bedroom and doesn’t budge on the matter until Khanh is back in bed under the blankets. Kai rushes to the bathroom and comes back with a wet cloth for Khanh’s forehead. He also takes the initiative to find some cold medicine and a glass of water.

“Drink,” he instructs sternly.

“With this, I’ll be good in an hour,” Khanh says, nodding to themself. “If you can wait that long, I’ll make...hm, noodle soup.”

Kai looks at the miserably shivering lump in the covers and privately thinks that Khanh would be lucky to be full health in one _week_. “I can make noodle soup.”

Khanh blinks.

“Or...do you think I can’t make it?”

“No, no!” Khanh tugs the blankets up to their chin. “If you want...all the ingredients are there.” They yawn. “I’ll rest, but I won’t sleep. If there’s anything you need, just ask me.”

“Hmm.” Kai neither agrees nor disagrees. He waits till Khanh’s eyes remain closed for a few minutes before heading to the kitchen.

And pulling out his phone to search how to make Vietnamese noodle soup.

Except, there’s a _lot_ more Vietnamese noodle soups than just phở. Thankfully, Kai finds one that looks easier than phở—some kind of pasta soup. He can surely make this. Rummaging in the freezer, Kai finds some of Khanh’s homemade chicken stock. Kai lets it defrost straight on the stove in a pot. He adds in fresh shredded chicken, further enriching the soup, as well as diced onion and carrots. The elbow macaroni will go in last, as that won’t take as long as the rest of the soup.

Leaving it to simmer and infuse, Kai heads back to Khanh’s bedroom to check how they’re doing.

Now that Kai doesn’t feel so much pressure, he (guiltily) takes the opportunity to look around. The first thing he notices aside from Khanh themself is the wallpaper. It’s a riot of colour and pattern and... distinctly not pretty. In fact, it detracts from all the furniture and items around the room (and there are a _lot_ of items around the room).

And, even worse, Kai realises that there is different—equally not-pretty—wallpaper throughout the different parts of the house.

Kai shouldn’t be so presumptuous. What if Khanh likes it? More importantly, Khanh is sick right now!

He checks Khanh’s temperature again, finding it hot. With a grimace, he removes the drying cloth from Khanh’s forehead and re-wets it.

“Hmm, Kai,” Khanh mumbles. “I’m fine, do you need something?”

“Are you attached to the wallpaper?” Kai blurts out.

“Ahh, you can do whatever you want,” Khanh mumbles, eyes still closed. They roll over and appear to go back to sleep.

Kai nods decisively. He checks on the soup, turns off the heat and drops in the dried pasta—it’ll cook, and he’ll reheat it again anyway for Khanh later. Then, he heads out of the house, remembering that he still has the spare key that Khanh gave him a while ago.

He returns an hour later, laden with an assortment of materials.

First, he removes the wallpaper in the living room first. He makes a mixture of hot water and fabric softener, and using a roller, wets the wallpaper in sections until he can peel the old wallpaper off. Then, after laying down plastic sheets, he lays down primer on the walls. Once they dry, he’ll paint the wall with acrylic-based paint, while using a more expensive oil-based paint around the windows and door frame. The windows are opened to help ventilate the room: in the warm weather the various coats should take perhaps two hours to dry, after which he’ll need to do another coat of paint.

And while he waits for the first coat to dry, he proceeds onto the next room.

There’s no way he can paint Khanh’s bedroom while they’re still there, sleeping, but Kai _does_ take down the wallpaper, after carefully moving furniture around. But already, the lighter coloured unpainted walls brighten up the house.

Art drawn by toutcequonveut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Sleeping Beauty Khánh is under a spell in their castle, cursed to a deep sleep. Only true love’s… dedication to replacing their hideous wallpaper can save them!
> 
> * * *
> 
> [View a sketch of a scene from chapter 4 drawn by toutcequonveut!](https://cequonveut.tumblr.com/post/636981631737053185/sketch-of-one-of-my-favorite-scenes-from-chapter-4)


	12. Súp nui - Macaroni soup (PART 2)

It’s late in the evening when Khánh finally wakes up. 

Their hand fumbles around for their phone and encounters rough terry cloth texture. Frowning, they blearily open their eyes and stare at the towel next to their pillow. When did that get here?

Slowly, memories trickle sluggishly into Khánh’s brain. Sitting at the desk, struggling to make sense of the squiggles on the screen that refused to coalesce into coherent words. A knock at the front door. Kai’s concerned face. Being herded into bed despite their protests. 

Khánh sits up abruptly, though they regret it when their head swims at the sudden movement. Kai had been in their house! With! No! Refreshments! Khánh is a _terrible_ host!

They start to wriggle out of the sheets but end up hopelessly entangled and fall to the floor with a soft _thunk!_ It’s the kind of position that forces you to wallow for a moment, to really let the pitifulness of your situation sink into the skin and realize that no, you are not at 100% and you can’t just pretend that you are. Khánh stays on the floor feeling quite like an invalid, and it is then that they notice their room seems _brighter_ than usual.

The realization is odd enough that they sit up a little to peek out the window. No, it is still late evening. So what could be the source of the change…? Khánh inches closer to the wall in their blanket cocoon like an inchworm, and it’s then that they realize what’s happened. The bedroom wallpaper their house had come with, patterned unsettlingly with eyes of various sizes on a dark maroon background, is gone. The walls beneath are somewhat patchy but ultimately an inoffensive plain white. Khánh gapes at the improvement that has seemingly come to fruition from their dreams. Do they have psychic powers? Wait, no psychic powers don’t do that, maybe—

The door opens.

Khánh whips their head around and regrets it when the world spins. Consequently, their vision is alarmingly tilted as they gaze at Kai standing in the doorway wearing _their_ apron and holding a tray.

“Khanh?” Kai asks. “Where are you?”

“‘M down here,” Khánh mumbles. Their throat is very sore, they realize. 

“Down—oh geez, are you okay?” Kai sounds frantic. He sets the tray down on the bedside table and sinks to his knees, hands working at the knotted sheets to try and work Khánh loose. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” Khánh assures, but it sounds weak even to their own ears. “What happened to my walls?”

Kai’s lips quirk slightly. “A fairy came in and got rid of all the horrible wallpaper in the house. Which was all of it.”

“The great fairy Âu Cơ?” Khánh exclaims. “Mother has come for me!”

“What?”

“Ah, I’ll have to explain the joke later,” Khánh confesses. With great effort, they roll out of the freshly disentangled sheets and lower themselves carefully into a sitting position on the bed. “Did you come in with a tray?” 

“Oh yes!” Kai turns around and presents said tray. There’s a mug of what looks like lemon tea and a large bowl containing steaming chicken soup with macaroni noodles, chopped carrots, and onions. Khánh leans in for a big sniff but their immensely stuffy nose causes them to start coughing instead.

“It looks amazing, Kai!” they enthuse. 

“I hope it’s good.” Kai picks nervously at the edge of the sheets as Khánh sets the tray over their lap and picks up a spoon. “I looked up a recipe for Vietnamese noodle soup, and I found this one, but most of the recipes said to use pork ribs, and I definitely didn’t feel confident enough for that, so I just cooked some chicken and shredded it, and for some things it just said ‘to taste’, and I didn’t quite know what what taste they meant, and—”

Khánh doesn’t hear the rest of what he says because they’ve just closed their lips around the spoon and are doing their best not to gag. The pungent flavor of fish sauce has penetrated even the thick barrier their sickness has placed over their sense of taste. Khánh wonders vaguely what it tastes like to Kai and comes to the conclusion that he must not have taste-tested the broth at all. Somehow, they manage to swallow the mouthful, but they already know that they absolutely cannot finish the broth as is.

“... It’s not good, is it?” Kai says.

Khánh looks up and is about to speak, but Kai reaches out to grab the teaspoon and swipes a bit of the soup before they can make a sound.

“BLEARGHH!” 

Khánh can’t help it—it starts at a chuckle and quickly evolves to a full-fledged belly laugh that hurts their throat but they can’t bring themselves to care. They might be miserably ill, but with their dear friend Kai here, they can’t be _that_ miserable.

When their laughter finally subsides, they notice Kai’s pout. Khánh smiles widely and extends an elbow. “Help me up and I’ll show you how to fix this. Oh, don’t look at me like that, it’s just a matter of adding more volume to dilute the nước mắm. I may be Vietnamese, but even I can’t handle this much fish sauce.”

“I’m not sure anyone could,” Kai mumbles abashedly.

Khánh chuckles. “It’s an easy mistake to make. Fish sauce is quite pungent, so just a drop too much can tip the flavor overboard.”

“But I put so much of it on the bún and bánh cuốn!”

“Yes, but the English translation is misleading—the fish sauce for those dishes is actually diluted quite a bit, and the name is different in Vietnamese.”

“I feel deceived,” Kai complains as they arrive in the kitchen. He pulls a chair near the stove, and once Khánh is seated, looks at them expectantly. “Well? You’re the director. What steps should I take now?”

“First, scoop out all the noodles and things. You don’t want them to overcook when you’re adjusting the broth. After you’re done with that, you’ll need to double the volume, probably in a 3:1 ratio of water to broth. Let it heat up, then taste a bit of it and we’ll go from there. Sound easy enough?”

“I think so.” Kai sets off to find some bowls.

“Wonderful. While you’re doing that, you can also fill me in on how _exactly_ the wallpaper seems to have slithered off my walls.” Khánh puts on a mock-stern face, crossing their arms to emphasize the feigned displeasure. Their lips keep twitching up into a smile, though, betraying their true emotions.

Kai rubs the back of his neck before continuing his task. “I did ask your permission, you know…”

Khánh frowns a little, and their arms relax. “I have… no recollection of that. But no matter, you were certainly doing me a favor by removing it. I simply learned to ignore it early on.”

“...Why didn’t you just get rid of it again?”

“Oh, you know.” They wave a hand vaguely. “There are many activities in life to enjoy. We should focus our energies on those.”

“So you were too lazy to do it.”

“Didn’t I just say that?”

The two smirk at each other for a bit. Khánh’s phone chirps, signaling the arrival of a text from someone. They pick up their phone and see that it’s one of their sisters asking about holiday plans again. Khánh sighs, knowing that refusing again will lead to a big fight and they’re just so tired of having to reiterate that they refuse to see their parents again until they acknowledge Khánh’s gender. Resolutely, they set the phone face-down on the table.

“By the way,” Kai interjects casually. “Can I get your phone number? That way you can text or call me if you get sick, or if you need anything in future.” He pulls out his own phone and extends it to Khánh .

“Of course!” They accept the proffered phone. “Is it okay if I send a text to myself to get your number?” Kai nods, and Khánh begins to enter their contact information. Remembering Kai’s enthusiasm for linguistics, they enter their full name in Vietnamese order with the proper accents, but then it looks way too formal. They decide to add some emoji around it, but the decision of _which_ emoji is very important. Khánh is quiet for a while as they scroll through the keyboard searching for exactly the right ones. 

Eventually they tap out a message to 🍚🧡Nguyễn Hoàng Khánh🥢🍤 and try not to think too hard on what precisely motivated them to include the heart.

Art drawn by toutcequonveut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Coworker: I can’t believe my flipping eyes. No really, I can’t. Quick, say something only the _real_ Kai would say.
> 
> Kai: I’m not even going to pretend to be mad at you because I’m gracious like that.
> 
> Coworker: Care to share with the class what’s got you in such a good mood?
> 
> Coworker: ...Kai?
> 
> Kai: Sorry I was texting someone.
> 
> Kai: And no. Don’t you have work to do?
> 
> Coworker: Well at least I know the old grumpy Kai is still in there somewhere. Fine, fine, I’m going now. Have fun texting. Ugh I feel so old… 
> 
> *
> 
>  **A/N:** To summarize the creation myth of the Vietnamese people ([full story here](https://theculturetrip.com/asia/vietnam/articles/au-co-the-fairy-goddess-mother-of-vietnams-people/)): long ago, the dragon king of the sea Lạc Long Quân saved the fairy Âu Cơ from a monster. The two fell in love and had 100 children together. However, the fairy yearned for the mountains while the dragon yearned for the sea, so the two separated taking 50 children each with them. These children were the ancestors to the Vietnamese people.


	13. Canh chua - Vietnamese sweet and sour soup

Kai comes by every day, and a few days later, Khanh— _Khánh_ with the accent—is finally looking better again, relieving the tension in Kai’s heart. During that time, Kai has also completely taken the old wallpaper down, and the fresh new coats of paint are down and dried.

Now that Kai feels he’s done satisfactorily in cleaning up the outdoor areas of Khánh’s house, he starts to look indoors. Khánh fusses when Kai oils the hinges to all the doors.

“You really don’t have to do anything,” Khánh says. “Sit down, let’s have lunch.”

“Then—then at least let me wash the dishes afterwards,” Kai says immediately. He feels like he needs to do something _more_. His phone is heavy in his pocket, with the little heart (orange, not red, but _still_ ) next to their name. The only way Kai knows how to show affection is _do_ things, and at this rate, he’ll need to build a new extension for Khánh’s place to properly show his feelings without having to say anything and hope for the best—

“Alright,” Khánh says, interrupting Kai’s thoughts. They give him a sheepish look. “I need to head out after lunch to buy some things anyway, so I will trouble you to wash the dishes for me.”

Lunch is an assortment of small plates, things like thịt kho and gỏi and rice. Kai can’t help but feel something pleased inside him as he surveys the stewed pork and eggs and the Vietnamese salad. Each dish is associated with a memory of Khánh and their warm smile. After they finish eating, Kai reiterates that he’ll do the dishes, “So please don’t worry.” His heart flutters when Khánh smiles and finally leaves.

Quiet descends upon the house, and Kai sighs as he starts on the dishes. Maybe he could install a dishwasher? But there really isn’t any space; all the cupboard space under the counter-tops are filled. 

Kai dries off the last of the dishes. That’s when he notices how sluggish the water is draining. A rush of relief goes through him, followed by a bit of guilt at his behaviour of trying to find failings in Khánh’s home.

But. This is still something he can do! While the water finishes draining, Kai goes off to collect various materials, including a large bucket and long thin piece of metal. Putting the bucket under the sink/drain to catch any water, gets onto his knees and untwists the screw that connects the sink to the curved pipe before it goes into the wall. He uses the thin piece of metal to pull out the gunk that has collected, carefully cleaning everything before fixing the curve drain pipe back in. While he’s at it, he goes and cleans up the pipes under the bathroom sink too.

“...Kai?” Khánh’s voice is high and breathless, sounding strained.

Kai starts, almost hitting his head at the bottom of the bathroom sink. Worried at the tone of Khánh’s voice, Kai quickly backs out and looks up.

Khánh’s eyes are wide, mouth open.

Kai stands up, trying not to loom over them. “Are you alright?”

Khánh swallows. “Er, Yes.”

Kai frowns and places a hand against Khánh’s forehead. But there is no sign of fever. “Did something happen when you went out?”

Khánh shakes their head. “No, no, I got everything I wanted. What were you doing?”

“Just cleaning out the drains, nothing much,” Kai quickly says.

“Yes. Right. Thank you. I’ll just be—I’m going to the kitchen and—do stuff.”

“Okay.” Kai stares at Khánh’s receding back, still worried. He hopes Khánh isn’t going to make something so strenuous as to require hours in the kitchen. Kai gets back on his knees and finishes up cleaning the bathroom sink’s drain. After dumping the water and watering the plants outside, Kai heads into the kitchen. 

As it turns out, Khánh has started to make various chicken and prawn and fish stocks, which all take a while to cook. On the kitchen bench, there is still a pile of groceries that Khánh has just bought.

“Do you mind if I…?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Khánh says quickly, still not looking at him.

“Okay.” Kai carefully puts away the groceries. By then, Khánh seems to have recovered from whatever it was, and they both head outside to the garden and sit and chat. Khánh shows off how big the plants have all gotten, and how they’re definitely taking good care of them.

As dinnertime approaches, Kai follows Khánh back into the kitchen. There is still rice in the rice cooker, so they can get started on the main dish now.

“Tonight, the main dish will be canh chua,” Khánh informs. “Canh—so, soup, and chua, meaning sour.”

“Canh chua,” Kai repeats dutifully.

“There are multiple versions, but today I’ll be using the fish stock and catfish,” Khánh continues. They add slices of fish into the soup, as well as sliced tomatoes, pineapple and beansprouts. “Do you still want some thịt kho?”

“Oh, yeah.” Kai gets out the container of leftover stewed pork and eggs and puts it into a small pot to heat up. 

Soon, the dining table is laid out: bowls of rice, chopsticks, the dish of thịt kho and a large bowl for the canh chua.

Kai has the canh chua first. It’s sweet and sour and savoury and a little spicy all at once, and the fish is surprisingly soft and fatty, but in the best way, because the sourness helps balance the richness.

“This is really good,” Kai says. Even the soup broth is flavourful, as he discovers when he tries a spoonful alone.

“When my dad makes canh chua, it’s so sour that no one else can eat it,” Khánh says idly, their head resting on their hand, watching Kai.

Kai looks back at them cautiously, since Khánh rarely ever mentions their family. “Did he teach you how to cook?”

“No.”

Kai offers, “My dad always wanted a son, but when I came out, he wasn’t happy at all. He’s getting better now, but…” Kai has to stop himself from touching his chest, flattened by his binder. “Do you. Um. Have plans next month?”

Khánh gives him a curious look. “No.” Their lips curve up. “Are you planning something?”

“Only to be here,” Kai says shyly.

Khánh also ducks their head. “Okay,” they say, voice equally shy.

Kai’s heart flips. He wants to reach out, to tilt Khánh’s head up and... _No, Kai, no!_ Kai swallows. “Do you want me to build an extension to the house?” he blurts out.

Khánh’s head snaps up, and they laugh. “No, whatever for? I think this house is perfectly sized for two people. Why did you ask?”

 _Two people!_ Khánh and...Kai?

Kai cheeks heat up. “Nothing,” he mumbles. “It’s just...there’s not much for me to do anymore. I feel like I’m imposing on you—how about we split the grocery bill?”

“No!” Khánh immediately disagrees. “No accounting between friends, remember? And at this critical time, I definitely need you to maintain the front and back gardens. Or...or else the back garden will turn into a forest again!”

Kai smiles weakly. “That’s true…”

“Exactly. Have you watched that latest nature series on Netflix? Our Planet, by David Attenborough?”

Kai quickly accepts the change of topic. “I haven’t, but I can check it out.” 

Khánh excitedly recounts their favorite parts of the show, and Kai listens indulgently. Before he knows it, it’s time for him to go home and work at his dreary other job.

When Kai eventually leaves, Khánh says, “You’ll come back soon, yes?”

And faced with Khánh’s hopeful look, Kai can only agree.

  
Art drawn by toutcequonveut  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Alternate universe: Khánh returns from shopping and finds a new addition to the house being built. Grocery bags drop from suddenly nerveless fingers. They sprint inside to where Kai is hammering away. “Make sure this one has more counter spaaaaace!!” they yell. 
> 
> Clearly, they have their priorities straight.


	14. Cà ri gà - Chicken curry

As soon as Kai leaves, Khánh’s mind is free to seize upon the thing they’ve been trying so hard to not think about all evening.

The sight of Kai, lower half sticking out from under the sink and angled up so Khánh had a perfect view of the lovely curves of his body…

The scene plays on loop in Khánh’s mind, over and over and over again. It’s enough to drive a person mad. What is _wrong_ with them? They’ve never thought of anyone like this before, and it’s utter madness. What kinds of impulsive thoughts are these? Who invited them! Khánh didn’t! 

_Or maybe,_ a small, often ignored part of Khánh’s brain says, _it’s because you_ like _him._

Khánh slaps their cheeks, trying in vain to snap out of whatever stupor had come over them. Unfortunately, once the thought is in their head, it refuses to budge, forcing Khánh to consider if there is any kernel of truth in it. They wander back into the kitchen in a daze, brain whirling.

Could it be possible? Khánh hasn’t ever had a crush on anyone, and certainly not in the past three years after moving all the way out to this city and having trouble making friends. Khánh begins to catalogue their thoughts about Kai, scrutinizing the way they think about him.

Noticing Kai’s features… unable to stop thinking about the attractive sweep of his body… heart beating faster when Kai _looks_ at them… the feeling of utter contentment when talking to Kai… missing Kai the second he leaves…

Oh.

 _I have a crush on someone. I have a crush on_ Kai.

A second after this realization, Khánh slaps both of their cheeks again. There’s no way they can act on this. There’s probably some kind of innate power imbalance in effect, and it wouldn’t be proper, and Kai probably doesn’t even like them _back_ , and, and…

Khánh sinks to the floor of the kitchen, clutching their head in their hands. _I’m in trouble_ , they think. It feels like a barrier in their brain has been shattered. All sorts of thoughts are bombarding them from every direction, and all of those thoughts are firmly centered on Kai. 

There’s nothing for it. They can’t go on like this. Khánh is just going to seal these inconvenient feelings and impure thoughts right back up wherever they were staying before. Then, they are going to _enjoy_ Kai’s company when he comes over in a very normal, _friends_ sort of way, and—

A memory of Kai speaking springs unbidden to Khánh’s mind. _It’s just...there’s not much for me to do anymore._

They’d told him he could come by whenever, hadn’t they? Surely… surely Kai wouldn’t _stop_ coming by? Khánh can barely hold themself together at the thought of not talking to Kai everyday, but what if _he doesn’t come back?_

The thought consumes them all night and into the next day, leading up to where Khánh currently finds themself.

“Come on, Khánh,” they mutter. “It’ll be easy and quick. Just… do it.” Their fingers tighten on the wrench as they continue staring at the stove. Their lovely, wonderful, gas cooktop that makes meals that bring happiness to Kai. Kai, who won’t come by if there’s nothing to fix. 

“I can’t do this,” they moan, even as they raise their arm higher. In their mind, the gas burners look like they’re crying tiny teardrops, begging them not to go through with it. Khánh closes their eyes, trying to force willpower and bring the wrench arcing down to shatter their poor, innocent stovetop— 

“What are you doing?” Kai asks, coming in through the front door. 

“Nothing!” Khánh yelps, whirling around, and the wrench goes flying backwards. 

_CRASH!_

The two of them stare at the broken window in silence. 

“So,” Khánh says. “Do you know how to fix a window?” 

It turns out that Kai doesn’t know how to fix a window, but he is an ace at following Youtube tutorials. Khánh sheepishly gives him money and resolutely refuses to answer any questions about _why_ they were holding a wrench to the stovetop. That secret can go in the vault with the other secret, the _big_ secret. They’re borne of the same emotion anyway.

While Kai heads to a home improvement store to get materials, Khánh decides to cook up a meal hearty enough to transform their heartsickness into deliciousness. They send off a text to Kai asking him to pick up a couple baguettes from a specific grocery store, then tie on their apron.

The memory of Kai wearing their apron and carrying a tray of chicken soup blooms into their mind. Khánh thinks deeply of their feelings on that vision while marinating chicken thighs with salt, sugar, fish sauce, chicken powder, frozen chopped lemongrass, onions, and curry powder. The bowl of chicken goes in the fridge.

Their obsession with Kai’s smile (and perhaps the gentle curve of his lower half emerging from beneath the bathroom sink) powers them through chopping carrots, taro, and Asian sweet potatoes into large chunks. After Khánh finishes, they pop the vegetables into the air fryer. Frying them will help the vegetables not break down when simmering in the sauce later. Khánh only hopes they can similarly keep themself together in front of Kai from now on.

The quickening of Khánh’s heartbeat when Kai looks at them is focused into making the curry base. The secret to all cooking is love of course, but the secret to a good curry is sautéeing the spices to develop their flavor. Over low heat, Khánh tips a healthy dose of curry powder into the pot, then adds ginger, garlic, onion, more lemongrass, shallots, a generous pinch of paprika, and several bay leaves. Once they are satisfied with the color, they add the bowl of chicken and a couple stalks of fresh lemongrass. 

Their utter contentment when spending time with Kai is distilled into the coconut water and homemade chicken broth Khánh pours into the pot. They stare into the depths, stirring occasionally to move the chicken around as they wait for the pot to boil. Their reflection stares back, and Khánh wonders if it’s just them, or if Kai can also see the lovesick fool in their eyes.

The bone-deep sense of wanting Kai to stay, the feeling of never wanting him to leave… that is what Khánh concentrates on as they add the fried carrots, potatoes, and taro to the pot. They mix the vegetables evenly into the curry. There’s no rushing this last part—everything must be tender, just as tender as their feelings for Kai. Khánh tastes the curry to ensure that the flavor infusing all of the parts is ideal. A little sugar, a bit more salt… Kai deserves only the best. When they are satisfied with the taste of the curry and the texture of the vegetables, they pour in two cans of coconut milk. The color blooms beautifully, lightening the dark broth into a creamy golden yellow-orange just as Kai steps through the door.

“I’m home—er, I mean, I’m back!” he calls.

Khánh turns to him ready with a smile. Their heart is at ease now, their overwhelming emotions infused into this meal that they have cooked for Kai. With this, Khánh is confident they can set aside those pesky feelings and treat Kai like a friend, like he deserves. 

“Welcome home,” they reply.

  
Art drawn by toutcequonveut  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Coworker: KAI you must BE HAPPY FOR ME
> 
> Kai: i’m happy for u
> 
> Coworker: I wasn’t finished yet, you don’t even know what I was telling you to be happy about. Also why do I feel like you’re being sarcastic... 
> 
> Kai: … anyway, what happened?
> 
> Coworker: MY WIFE IS FINALLY OVER HER MORNING SICKNESS! WE CAN EAT GREASY FOOD AGAIN!
> 
> Kai: Oh, so you don’t want to hear about the Vietnamese curry I had for dinner?
> 
> Coworker: I shall sit here obediently and silently as the Great Kai regales me with his tales
> 
> Kai: It was… the warmest meal I’ve ever had.
> 
> Coworker: ??? Do you normally eat cold food???


	15. Bún bò Huế - Huế-style spicy beef noodle soup

_It feels like summer’s about to end,_ Kai thinks as he strides briskly down the road under an umbrella that leaves the bottom half of him wet. At least the plastic bag he’s hugging to his chest has kept its contents dry.

It’s still raining as he arrives at Khánh’s place. He’s barely knocked on the door before it opens.

Khánh immediately gives a look of concern. “Come in, come in!” they say. “You’re all wet. Ah, do you want a change of clothes? I can put your clothes in the dryer…”

“...Your clothes won’t fit me,” Kai says, looking down on the shorter Khanh.

Redness spreads on Khánh’s cheeks. “Oh. Yes. Right! I’ll turn on the radiator, you can stand in front of it and dry off, is that alright?”

“I don’t want to impose. In fact.” Kai holds out the plastic bag. “I came here to give you this. I’m sorry I didn’t package it nicely. But. Yeah.”

Khánh’s eyes light up. “What? What is it?” They take the plastic bag and immediately clear some table space and start rummaging inside.

Kai shifts nervously. Truthfully, Kai hadn’t known what more to do in Khánh’s house, so he had googled “how to show affection”, and one of the most popular methods was gifts.

The first item Khánh pulls out is an umbrella. They open it partially, to reveal the cute food designs dancing across the fabric.

“I love it!” Khánh immediately says. “Thank you so much, Kai.”

Kai’s heart skips a beat. “No, it’s nothing. I saw it and thought of you.”

Khánh’s smile is a little shy. “Thank you.”

“Wait, there’s more.”

“Oh?” Khánh rummages through the bag and pulls out a slim set of food stickers. “I _do_ love food,” they enthuse. “And these are so cute!” The final thing they pull out is a medium-sized turtle plush. Khánh bites their bottom lip.

“I thought, since teddy bears are common, but turtles are cute, and that you would like a turtle and…”

“ _Thank you_ so much,” Khánh interrupts, eyes shining. “You’re so thoughtful. Turtles are one of the animals I loved best on that show we were talking about.”

Kai scuffs his feet. “I’m glad you like it.” His anxiousness fades away, replaced with relief. “Well, that was all I—”

“This must have cost a lot. Let me pay you back—”

“What, no!”

“How about I make you lunch every day as well?” Their eyes brighten. “I could make the Vietnamese version of bentos!”

Kai quickly shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. You’ve made me lunch almost everyday, this is to pay _you_ back.”

Khánh pouts. “But…”

“In fact, you’re cooking for two people now, is carrying all your groceries heavy? Next time, let me come with you, I can carry everything. Or I can go shopping _for_ you? But I guess I can’t pick out ingredients as well as you can….But I can drive! I can drive you wherever you want to go!”

Khánh pauses. “It _would_ be nice to go shopping with another person…”

Kai nods very quickly.

“I’m thinking of making bún bò Huế. I already have the stock, but I’m missing some of the fresh ingredients.”

“Alright, is there anything we need to bring?”

“Some grocery bags…”

Kai quickly familiarises himself with Khánh’s small car and happily drives them to all the various grocers and butchers and food shops. He feels out of place when they visit a large Asian supermarket—a proper one, not an Asian aisle in the supermarket. While there are short english descriptions, there are much more words in Chinese and Vietnamese which suggests the food item is more complicated than the English name implies.

 _But_ Kai takes his job as a carry-boy seriously, even carrying the shopping basket for Khánh. He watches with wide eyes at the force of nature that is Khánh in a grocery store.

“...And this can be cooked with chicken to make a medicinal soup,” Khánh says quietly. “Oh, and this is supposed to be good for your eyes...Oh! This is on sale? I should buy it, it lasts for a long time…Kai, if there’s anything you like the look of, please tell me so I can buy it, okay?”

“Okay,” Kai says helplessly.

When they return home—to Khánh’s home—Kai helps unload the car and put away the things not needed for the dish Khánh’s going to make. And Kai realises now how Khánh’s cupboards and fridge are so full—they buy whatever catches their fancy! Their kitchen is basically a mini shop at this rate.

“Now, go sit down and watch some TV,” Khánh insists, steering Kai out.

 _But…_ Kai protests in his heart. He turns on the TV under Khanh’s watchful gaze and waits till Khanh leaves.

Then he starts tidying up the living room. He heads to the bathroom, where there are some cleaning supplies, and ends up deep cleaning the bathroom until it shines.

“...Kai? Where are you?”

—The TV sound turns off.

“...” Kai guiltily heads back to the living room. “Here I am! I was just in the bathroom!”

“Oh. Are you hungry yet?”

“For anything you made, yes!”

The tiniest blush grows on Khánh’s face. “I hope I’ll never disappoint you.”

“I hope _I_ don’t disappoint you.”

The two of them smile at each other.

In Kai’s heart, he’s screaming, _Khánh looks so cute! So adorable! That smile makes me want to hug them tight!_

“Well. The bún bò Huế is done. Come try.”

“Yes, yes,” Kai dutifully follows Khánh into the kitchen/dining area.

“Bún bò Huế, translating literally to Huế beef noodles, is made with a rich beef broth and a lot of spices and chilli and eaten with large, cylindrical rice noodles,” Khánh announces. 

Kai gazes at the steaming pot of deep red broth and immediately agrees to _all_ the possible toppings when Khánh asks: the Vietnamese pork sausage, tender slices of beef, blood cubes, pork trotter, and all the fresh greens and banana blossom and herbs. A squeeze of lime goes on top and a bowl of nuoc cham to taste complete the meal.

The broth is hot and flavourful, warming on a raining day like today. Kai slurps up the noodles, bites into the super-tender meats, while the greens and herbs bring freshness and soothe the spice. 

“So good,” Kai says. “How do you get the broth to taste so nice?”

“Hours and hours of cooking,” Khánh says with a smile. “And using beef bones.”

“From the butchers,” Kai nods thoughtfully, recalling the diverse range of ingredients on sale when he went shopping with Khánh earlier.

“Is there anything you want for lunch tomorrow?”

“ _Khánh_.”

Khánh grabs the soft turtle plush sitting at the far end of the table and hugs it. “Isn’t this so cute?”

 _You’re the cute one!_ Kai’s cheeks heat up. He’s glad he didn’t tell Khánh about how he cleaned the bathroom, because then Khánh might be even more insistent!

“I really don’t _need_ —”

“But I want to!”

“...Then any leftovers…?”

“Good, good! I have too much food anyway, you’re doing me a favour to eat it,” Khánh says happily.

Kai’s completely unable to resist.

When he leaves, not only does he have lunch, but Khánh’s also given him food for breakfast and snacks as well.

Kai leaves with a new resolution. Gifts given to Khánh can only be done in secret!

Art drawn by toutcequonveut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Kai: *gives Khánh some small gifts*
> 
> Khánh: *watery eyes* 🥺 !!!! PLEASE take my couch. Or at least an armchair. Maybe the deed to the house?? I don’t know how to respond to gifts???


	16. Cá kho tộ - Caramelized and braised fish

Khánh sets the turtle plush in a place of honor on their bedside table. It’s the first thing they see when they wake in the morning, and Khánh loves starting their day being reminded of the lovely feelings Kai gives them. 

The alarm clock beside the turtle declares the time 7:52am. Stretching their arms over their head, Khánh reaches under their pillow and pulls out their phone, wiggling slightly until they achieve the comfiest position possible in the nest of pillows and blankets. That settled, they unlock their phone and open the messaging app.

_Khanh: Good morning! 🌞☀️ Thank you again for the gifts._

Knowing Kai’s late work schedule, Khánh doesn’t expect him to answer anytime soon. To their surprise, a reply pops up before Khánh even has time to switch apps.

**Kai: you don’t have to thank me so much, they were thank you gifts for you lol**

Khánh smiles at Kai’s predictable response. They can’t very well just leave it be, though. They’d never expected Kai to give them a gift _,_ and the fact that it was _Kai_ who had given them made Khánh’s heart thump irregularly. Scolding themself internally, they snap a picture of the turtle on the nightside table.

_[Khanh sent a photo]_

_Khanh: Mr. Turtle says hi 👋_

**Kai: asdfdkalaksjdh you named it Mr. Turtle?**

**__** _Khanh: His name is Mr. Turtle, yes, and I’ll thank you to treat him with the appropriate respect afforded him as the CEO of Turtle Enterprises._

**Kai: Very sorry about that, President Turtle. Won’t make that mistake again. Would you care for a refreshment before your board meeting with the shareholders, President Turtle?**

_Khanh: He says he'll consider forgiving you the next time you come by. 🐢 Any predictions on when that will be?_

**Kai: I’d like to come by today, if that’s okay. I have something to ask** **you**

Khánh’s heart starts racing and thumping erratically again. Something to ask them? Like what? Good or bad? They do their best to swallow their anxiety and type out a reply.

_Khanh: Today is great. Every day is great. President Turtle and I will be expecting you for dinner (?)_

**Kai: I’ll be there around early evening. See you then 🤗**

The little blushing emoji with hugging hands instantly does Khánh’s heart 9000 damage. They can’t help but obsess over it. What could Kai want to talk about? They consciously avoid considering that it might be related to the _feelings_ they’ve been suppressing.

Khánh’s nerves won’t stop buzzing the whole day. To compensate, they sit down and write out an elaborate course menu of the food planned for tonight. It’s always better when they know exactly when Kai will come over so they can prepare the most delicious dishes. He only deserves the best, after all. 

An army of fresh vegetables is recruited, chopped, and arranged into small side dishes that will accentuate the main meal tonight: cá kho tộ. Khánh is sure that Kai will love the caramelized, braised fish and can’t wait to watch him eat it.

When the sun is hanging low in the sky, Khánh starts cleaning the fish with salt and rinsing it. They set that aside and prepare the sauce: fish sauce, soy sauce, water, coconut soda, and chillies. Then, Khánh uses a nonstick pan (not exactly traditional, but Kai probably won’t mind) to caramelize sugar into a sauce before sautéeing garlic and shallots. They carefully arrange the fish on top and leave it to simmer for some time. Once everything is cooked through, Khánh sprinkles some cracked black pepper and freshly cut green onion from the jar on their windowsill over top everything.

They are just pulling out their phone to ask Kai when he’ll arrive when they hear his knock.

“You’re just in time for dinner!” Khánh calls. “Come sit—” their voice fades away as they stare at Kai.

“...Do I look weird?” He’s rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, looking as tall and handsome as ever except for the stark difference of _having shaved off all the hair on his head_. That’s not the worst part though. 

No, the worst part is that Khánh _felt_ themself fall a little further into their crush at how _good_ Kai looks with his head buzzed. 

“Ah, I, um,” they respond eloquently. “Dinner’s ready?” It comes out as a question for some reason.

“Oh, I’ve got something first.” Kai fumbles around in a pocket for a second and then pulls out a folded up sheet of paper that he offers to Khánh.

They open it to find the following:

_Dear President Turtle,_

_I’m sorry._

_Sincerely,_

_Kai_

Khánh bursts out laughing. “I can’t believe you did this!” 

“It’s only proper,” Kai sniffs. But the serious expression holds only for a second before he’s smiling. “Now, what smells so good?”

Khánh takes a detour to present the note to the turtle plush, then leads Kai to the kitchen. 

To his credit, Kai only sighs in resignation at the amount of food on the table instead of protesting. “I don’t know why I’m surprised every time, but I am. Can you tell me the dishes today?”

Khánh points out the obvious first—rice, sliced cucumbers, sautéed water spinach with garlic, a light soup with vegetables (canh)—before presenting the gently bubbling deep amber fish sprinkled with green onions. “This is cá kho tộ, or Vietnamese caramelized and braised fish. It’s traditionally served sizzling in a clay pot, but it cooks more evenly in a pan. Unfortunately, you don’t get the same effect this way.”

“I’ll live,” Kai comments, taking a seat. “But only if I get to eat some of it right now. That fish smells _amazing._ ”

The two of them ensure that Kai will, in fact, live, and after finishing just over half the food on the table and splitting a custard apple for dessert, Khánh finally can’t take it anymore. 

“So, what did you want to talk about?” they ask deceptively casually.

“Right.” Kai rubs his palms on his jeans, then does it again. “Right. Um, would it maybe be okay if I stayed here for a bit? At, uh, your house? Just for a few days, starting tomorrow afternoon. And I would need to leave a few things here, I guess, if that wouldn’t impose on you—”

“Yes! Yes, absolutely, that would be fine,” Khánh cuts in, an uncontrollable smile on their lips. Kai!!! Staying! At! Their house! Where they can spend even more time with him!! “I can set up the second bedroom for you. And I’ll drive you home so you can gather the things you’ll need to leave here and I’ll take them back here for you.”

“Are you sure?” Kai chews his lip, concern evident in his eyes. Khánh idly notes that his eyes are ever more prominent now that his hair is buzzed.

“Anything for my good friend,” Khánh emphasizes. “Do you want to go now? Or maybe we can have a bit of ice cream first?”

Kai checks the clock. “I’d better not, it’s getting late. Let me do the dishes and sweep and wipe down the kitchen first, and then I’ll go, if that’s alright.”

“You know you don’t have to—”

Kai fixes them with a look of mock sternness. “You already know I’m going to do it anyway, Nguyễn Hoàng Khánh, so don’t even try me!”

“Ooh, your pronunciation was quite good!” Khánh follows as Kai makes his way to the sink with a stack of dishes. 

“You think so? I started Vietnamese on Duolingo to figure out how the alphabet works.”

“That would explain why your accent is so Northern…”

Later, much later as they wave goodbye at Kai’s building later that night, it occurs to Khánh that in the midst of their excitement, they forgot to ask exactly why Kai needs to stay at their house. 

_Oh well,_ Khánh thinks. _It’s probably nothing too serious._

  
Art drawn by toutcequonveut  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Kai: Wish me luck tomorrow
> 
> Coworker: Good luck
> 
> Coworker: Wait why
> 
> Coworker: Are you okay??
> 
> Coworker: Kaaaaaaaaai
> 
> Coworker: D:
> 
> Kai: Sorry, just went to get a tissue. Thanks dude
> 
> *
> 
> Note: Vietnamese has many different dialects with different words for the same thing and different pronunciations of _everything_. The three main ones are Northern, Central, and Southern. If you meet a Vietnamese person who was born outside Vietnam, chances are they speak and understand the Southern dialect; however, the “official” dialect is the Northern one. That’s why a language-learning site like Duolingo will typically teach the Northern dialect.


	17. Cháo gà - Vietnamese rice porridge with chicken

There’s fear in Kai’s heart, thump-thump-thumping as he enters the hospital. He pretends to be calm when the doctors and nurses lead him to the bed.

It’s been a long time coming. He’s not regretting this. He’s going to see Khánh very soon after.

He counts down as ordered by the anaesthetist.

10, 9, 8…

When Kai wakes up, it’s done, and it _hurts._ He does his best to listen to the doctor’s post-surgery run-down, hearing familiar words that he’s been preparing for.

He calls an Uber to collect him at the hospital. While getting into the car is fine enough, he finds it extremely hard to get up again.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologises to the driver, who has to get out and open the door for him.

“...Kai?” Khánh hurries out of the house, brows pinched in worry and mouth open in shock. “Kai!” They run over and take Kai’s arm, thanking the Uber driver.

“I’m okay,” Kai says as the two of them walk into Khánh’s house. He smiles dopily at Khánh, trusting them to lead him safely.

Inside, Khánh takes him into the living room and carefully helps him sit down on the recliner.

“Now,” Khánh says, brows pinching in worry. “Did you get into a fight? Who hurt you?!”

Kai’s head dips in embarrassment and apprehension. “Actually...I had top surgery.”

Understanding blooms in Khánh’s eyes. “Oh. _Oh_!” They pout. “Why didn’t you tell me??”

“I’m sorry?” He winces at a twinge of pain.

Khánh props a hand on their hip. “If you tell me everything you need immediately then I might just forgive you. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Need me to change something? How about going to the bathroom?”

Kai’s face splits into a smile as he is barraged with possible requests. He feels that Khánh is impossibly cute, his smile growing into laughter. “... _Ow_.”

Khánh’s eyes widen. “What happened?”

“Laughing hurts,” Kai says grumpily.

Khánh stares at him in disbelief for a moment, then rolls their eyes, while their lips curve up into a smile. “You sit there, I’ll get you some water,” they decide.

A few moments later, Khánh returns with a slightly steaming mug. It’s less than half full, warm in Kai’s hands. There’s also a straw, meaning that Kai won’t have to lift the mug as high.

“What is this?”

There’s a spice-like smell to it.

“Ginger and honey tisane,” Khánh says. “It’s good for you.” They turn the TV onto a nature documentary channel. “Science also says that looking at nature is good for you.” Their hand rests lightly on Kai’s shoulder. “Rest, okay?”

Kai hums affirmatively. He sips on the drink. He puts the mug down to watch the documentary. His eyes slowly glaze as he watches the scenes of nature and the soothing voice of the narrator.

When he blinks again, the TV is black and there’s a blanket draped over his legs. Various pillows are arranged to both his sides. The mug is now gone, and there’s the light fragrance of chicken stock in the air.

_Wah? Where…_

Kai blinks, confused. The urge to go to the bathroom also makes itself known.

Grunting, he stands up. Pain radiates from his chest. He shuffles on autopilot towards the bathroom.

He manages to pull his trousers down. He manages to sit on the toilet.

But...wiping with toilet paper is impossible. He doesn’t have the maneuverability.

“Fuck…”

Kai groans. _Why. Why?_ Kai should have installed...a bidet or something. What if he just sits here? Would Khánh notice—

“Kai? Kai! Where are you?!!!”

“...I’m in here.”

Khánh’s footsteps hurry towards him and stop outside the door. “Are you alright?” comes Khánh’s worried voice.

“...No,” Kai admits. “Can you come in?”

Kai tries to blot out what happens next. Afterwards, Khánh helps him pull up his trousers and leads him back to the sofa in the living room.

“Are you hungry? I made some cháo gà, it’s a Vietnamese chicken porridge, very easy to eat and light on your digestive system.”

“Okay.”

That fragrant smell was the chicken stock that forms the base of the porridge. It’s a fairly loose porridge, and the chicken is already in small, easy-to-eat pieces. It’s followed with some more hot ginger tea.

Kai’s eyes mist up a little as Khánh takes away his used utensils. He’s so lucky that Khánh is willing to do this, even though Kai sprung it on them so suddenly.

He’s really, really lucky…

Kai dozes off again.

*

Days pass in a blur of sleeping and bouts of doze-y non-sleeping. Kai’s heart fills to bursting with all the love and attention Khánh is showering on him, especially since he can’t shower himself so Khánh has to help him wipe down his body. He sees now why the surgeon had urged him to find _someone_ , friend, family, or otherwise, to help him during his recovery period. His face flames with embarrassment to think of the things Khánh has to help him with though. The showering and, god, the _toilet_ aren’t even the worst parts (Khánh had in fact gone out the first day and had a bidet installed). No, it’s the drains attached to his chest to remove pus from the surgery sites that threaten to ruin things for Kai.

The second day, when they need to be emptied, he refuses to pull up his shirt. “It’s gross!” he protests fiercely, hands fisted at the hem.

“I don’t mind,” Khánh insists. 

“You say that now, but then you’ll see the, ugh, the _pus_ and then...and then—” Kai’s voice chokes off, his knuckles turning white with how hard he’s gripping his shirt hem now.

“And then what?” Khánh’s voice is so gentle, so kind. It makes Kai want to hide in a hole somewhere.

There’s a long moment where Kai hopes if he doesn’t respond, Khánh won’t push the issue. Unfortunately, that doesn’t happen. If anything, they seem to get ever more patient. 

After another tense two minutes, Kai can’t stand it anymore. “I’m already asking you for so much, and you just give and give and never let me really pay you back. I’m… afraid. What if this is the last straw? At what point is too much?” Kai says it all in a rush, his voice faint but growing stronger with every word. “I’m afraid if I give you the chance, it’ll go badly and ruin our friendship.”

“Kai…”

But the momentum of his unleashed anxiety will not be stopped. “I know you’re going to say it won’t matter, but what if it _does?!_ You’re such a kind and generous person, I’m afraid you’ve just been holding in resentment over me, and when you see the gross tubes in my chest everything will backfire.” A thought occurs to him. “Oh shit, you haven’t gone to work at all since I’ve been here! Am I making you take sick days? I’ll pay you back your lost hours or, or something. Once I’m better, I mean, I can’t do much for a few days, but then I’ll get out of your hair and—”

“Kai!”

A warm hand is suddenly on his cheek, tipping his head up. Kai’s brain short-circuits at the sensation of human touch, something he’s been starved of for far too long. His eyes sweep up and find that Khánh’s face is much closer to his than expected, and his breath catches.

“Keep breathing, please. Slow and steady. Inhale, one, two, three, four, exhale, one, two, three, four…”

Kai does as instructed. He feels the tension begin to leave his body the longer he listens to Khánh’s soothingly hypnotic voice.

“It’s not good for you to get so worked up. I’ve been looking up things while you’ve been sleeping, and avoiding stress is one of the most important things for you to recover quickly,” Khánh murmurs. They move their hand from Kai’s cheek to his back, where they begin to rub soothing circles. Little by little, Kai feels his heart rate calm down.

After a time, Khánh speaks again. “It seems I can’t convince you that things will be alright, but I can assure you that no matter what, we’ll talk our way through it, because that’s what friends do. And you are my _best_ friend. If the drains are too much for me, I’ll tell you that they are, and I won’t force myself to do anything I don’t feel comfortable with.”

Kai chews his lip nervously. “What about the… other stuff? Do you resent me? And what about your job?”

Khánh huffs a quiet laugh. “I truly, deeply, 100% have no regrets about you dropping into my life—quite literally!” They smile warmly at Kai, and then the expression falters. “As for my job, ah, my job…”

Tension snaps back into Kai’s body. “Your job?” he prompts.

Khánh hastily begins to rub his back again. “It’s nothing like what you’re thinking, I promise. It’s just a little… embarrassing.”

“Surely not more embarrassing than the things you have to help me with,” Kai responds drily. “Come on, it’s only fair for us to share embarrassment here!”

“Of course, yes, I just… my job… it’s…” Khánh turns their face away, but Kai can still see the flaming red of their cheeks. “I’mastreamer.”

“What?”

Khánh heaves a huge sigh. “I’m a Minecraft streamer. People pay me money every month because they like the content I make. Right now, I explained a family emergency came up and I’ll be out for about a week. I also came into the inheritance of a certain family member who supported me after I came out and my family… didn’t support me as much as I’d hoped. I hired a financial advisor, and all the inheritance money is a safety net in case I don’t make as much as I expect from my streaming.”

Kai’s eyes widen. “Oh.”

Khánh’s expression becomes unsure. “So. It’s okay, see?”

Kai shakes his head and smiles. “That’s really awesome! Can I watch you stream?? I used to play Minecraft, before work took up all my time…”

If anything, Khánh goes even redder. “Okay, whatever you like.”

It’s…. _cute_.

Kai smiles. “But not right now, of course. I might play a bit to remember how it feels.”

Khánh nods. “Yes, that’s a good idea! There are also some great mods if you want me to tell you as well.”

Kai suppresses a smile. It feels really good to find something that makes Khánh as close to excited as they are about food. “But...um...before that...can you go with me to my post-op appointment then? At least to open the door and—”

“I’ll drive!” Khánh declares, voice brooking no argument. “Just leave it to me.”

 _Just leave it to Khánh_. Kai’s chest aches, but it’s a good pain.

  
Art drawn by toutcequonveut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Minecraft streamer Khánh: And here’s my newest creation, a city where all the buildings are made out of food! There’s a rail car that goes around each section that looks like conveyor belt sushi! 
> 
> Twitch chat: [frothing at the mouth]
> 
> Twitch chat: [donations and emotes streaming in]
> 
> Twitch chat: MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE!
> 
> * 
> 
> **Bonus scene 2:**
> 
> Khánh feels they’ve never been such a light sleeper since Kai came to them in his time of need. As such, they wake up immediately when they hear his weak voice calling from the living room. They hurry over. “What can I do for you, Kai?”
> 
> "Can I ask you something...personal?" 
> 
> "Yes?" they breathe, heart beating faster. Is this it? Could it be that he returns their feelings—? 
> 
> "Can you _please_ scratch the area just outside the bandages. I can't scratch on the area, but maybe just nearby it is okay? _Pleeeease_ I can’t move my arms like that just yet, I’m so desperate!" 
> 
> "...Of course, Kai.”
> 
> “Mmm...hey! Ouch! What was that for?”
> 
> “Nothing, nothing.”


	18. Bánh kẹp lá dứa - Pandan waffles

As promised, Khánh drives Kai to his first post-op appointment. After they park the car, the two of them head inside. Then they continue to follow Kai.

It takes Kai a while to notice. When he does, his brows draw together. “Like I said, you really don’t have to come inside with me—”

“Alright, I won’t go—” Khánh feels a stab in their heart at the piteous look on Kai’s face but forges ahead “—provided you can physically stop me.” They cross their arms in triumph as Kai attempts to lift a shoulder and has to give up immediately and glares at them in betrayal. “As I thought.”

“But…” 

“We talked about this, remember? It’s a privilege that you trust me enough to care for you when you’re unwell.”

Kai hesitates.

“Now come, we can’t leave the doctor waiting.” Khánh unfolds their arms and touches (!) Kai to nudge him forward. Kai follows their instructions, looking partly bewildered.

The surgeon smiles at Kai and greets him. “Good to see you well. Now who is this?”

“This is Khánh, my friend--”

“ _—Best_ friend,” Khánh corrects, smiling pleasantly. “I’m helping Kai recover.”

She looks at Kai. “Are you willing to have your friend watch all proceedings?”

Kai’s cheeks are a little red, but he nods. “Yeah. It’s nothing they haven’t seen…”

So Khánh ends up watching as the doctor takes out the drains from Kai’s chest. They take the initiative to help Kai put their clothes back on. They listen carefully, leaning forward in their chair to better catch the words as the doctor prescribes medication and gives directions on how to proceed for the next three weeks until the one month appointment. They don’t even laugh when the doctor covers the risks during the recovery period and Kai squawks, “My nipples might fall off?!” 

After she’s run through all her instructions, just to be safe, Khánh asks the doctor to repeat the highlights again, noting down the specifics in a little black notebook with neat, precise handwriting. All the while, they have a very serious expression on their face. Kai will not have substandard care on _Khánh’s_ watch! 

As Khánh helps Kai back into the car and drives them back to the house, Kai is quiet and contemplative. Only when he has been positioned back on the couch and Khánh is heading into the kitchen does he finally speak. “Is there, uh, anything I can do?” 

Khánh looks over the counter separating the stove from the living room and sees Kai fidgeting anxiously on the couch. Their heart squeezes a little at the miserable expression on his face, obviously feeling guilty at his supposed imposition on Khánh’s life. They ponder for a moment, then reply, “Can you pick out a new show for me to watch? I finished _Our Planet_ and I need recommendations.”

“I’ll get started right away!” Kai dives as fast as he is able for his phone and starts typing. As Khánh takes out ingredients for their planned snack, Kai calls out suggestions. 

Khánh gives their opinion on each while busily whisking eggs and sugar with a long pair of wooden chopsticks. They add coconut milk, melted butter, and pandan extract that makes the mixture bloom into a beautifully refreshing light green color. Then they sift in wheat flour, rice flour, tapioca starch, and baking powder (which they have to excavate from the back of the cabinet) and fold until everything is combined evenly and the mixture is smooth.

When the first ladleful of batter sizzles on the waffle iron, Kai finally looks up. “What are you making?” He inhales deeply. “I can’t smell it yet.”

“Do you know what pandan is?” 

“No,” Kai confesses. 

“Okay, wait two minutes and I’ll come over and show you.”

As the waffle cooks, Khánh also slices up a mango. After the timer goes off, Khánh pries the waffle out of the iron. They carry over the steaming plate as well as the mango and plop down into the armchair just diagonal to what they now think of as Kai’s sofa. “Here you are!” they beam, presenting the dish to Kai.

“It’s so green,” Kai comments, turning the plate this way and that. “Is there green tea in this?”

“No, this is pandan, or lá dứa. It’s a classic flavor of southeast Asian desserts. Personally, I think the color is even more beautiful than matcha.”

Kai takes a deep sniff of the fragrant steam. “It smells delicious!” He tears off a quarter of the waffle and takes a bite. “And it _is_ delicious.” He quickly scarfs down the rest of his slice and tears another quarter off and holds it out, raising his eyebrows. He can’t lift his arm very high, but Khánh recognizes the gesture and gently takes the slice from him. 

They savor the warmth of the waffle beneath their fingertips. Kai gave this to them! Yes, it was food they made, but the sentiment is still there. Slowly, they take a small bite. Light, almost-floral sweetness spreads across their tongue, the headier flavor of coconut supporting the delicate pandan flavor. The waffle is just the right texture, soft with a thin crunch on the exterior. Khánh eats the entire piece and smiles at Kai, who smiles back. 

“More?”

“Please.”

After their afternoon snack and some light tea to help with the sweets, Khánh heads to their computer. After a half hour or so, Kai comes in and stands by their shoulder, leaning slightly on the desk.

Khánh whips around to face him. “Do you need something?” Their eyes snap quickly around, searching Kai’s body language for signs of pain or distress.

Kai starts to raise both hands placatingly, winces, and settles his arms back by his sides. “No, I’m fine, just a little bored. What are you doing?”

Khánh relaxes. They gesture broadly at the screens before them. “A little bit of work.”

“That doesn’t look like Minecraft.” Kai squints at the dual monitors, clearly trying to make sense of the dizzying amount of words and complex diagrams. 

Khánh frowns. “No, of course not, I would have put up a sign or something to let you know if I were streaming. This is my other work.”

“Other work?” A suspicious expression snaps onto Kai’s face. “So you lied to me about not having to take off work?”

“What? I don’t...oh! I must have forgotten to mention.” Khánh gestures at the screen on the right which is filled with Vietnamese words. “I also freelance as a technical translator from time to time. It’s very irregular, like all freelancing, so I don’t as such consider it my job.”

“...You have two things you do for money, playing Minecraft and translating—” Kai leans closer, squinting to make out the English words better “—fluorescence modulation of polymer nanoparticles? And of the two, the one you consider your job is…”

“The Minecraft, yes.” They take in Kai’s incredulous look and defensively squawk, “It is very important to maintain a regular streaming schedule! My followers would be disappointed otherwise! The translating is whenever I feel like it.” They flap their hand several times at the monitor to show how little regard they show for the material.

“I’m going to take a wild guess that the translation job pays better though?”

“Yes, well, the pay is hardly important compared to regular hours.” Khánh closes the documents in defiance. “Anyway, it’s getting near dinnertime. Do you have any particular cravings?”

“We just ate half an hour ago,” Kai protests.

“Oh, right. Well, how about a shower then?”

Kai’s face turns as red as the chili peppers in Khánh’s garden. “Um, I…” he trails off, brows furrowed and clearly conflicted. Eventually, he continues, “A shower would be nice. I feel _disgusting_. I even shaved my head so my hair wouldn’t get greasy while I can’t wash it, but it hasn’t helped as much as I hoped.”

“Let’s go then, and I’ll help you wash.” Khánh leads Kai into the master bathroom because that shower has nicer settings and more luxurious outfittings. They take a moment to change into a tank top and shorts as Kai gets into the shower stall. Only after the water starts and the door slides closed does Khánh enter the room, keeping their eyes resolutely to the side of the frosted glass. When they first had to help Kai wash, they were worried their _feelings_ would make things complicated. Fortunately, his obvious weakness and fatigue erased any trace of untoward feelings from Khánh’s brain. 

They are surprised at how _comfortable_ it is to sit just outside the shower as Kai scrubs carefully and slowly. It should be awkward, but it isn’t. Kai keeps up a steady stream of conversation, asking about Khánh’s translating job (boring) and their Minecraft ideas (exhilarating). When he needs their help, Khánh keeps their eyes respectfully on Kai’s head and chest, washing carefully and thoroughly. Afterwards, they help him dry off as well.

As the two exit the bathroom in a cloud of steam, Khánh turns to Kai with shining eyes and asks, “ _Now_ is it time to start dinner?”

Kai laughs and settles gingerly onto his couch. “Okay, let’s have dinner.”

  
Art drawn by toutcequonveut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Coworker: Hey Kai, this is [Coworker]
> 
> Kai: ?? How did you get my number
> 
> Coworker: You gave it to me? When we first started working together?
> 
> Kai: Oh, okay. What’s up?
> 
> Coworker: I miss you dude, that’s all
> 
> Kai: Aww
> 
> Kai: wait.
> 
> Kai: Are the teenagers bullying you again?
> 
> Coworker: ...yes.
> 
> Kai, cracking his knuckles: Let me log on real quick


	19. Bánh bao and sữa đậu nành - Steamed buns and soymilk

Kai is surprised just how fast the days pass. He feels absolutely spoiled by Khánh’s diligence and care, which goes above and beyond.

He doesn’t think he can possibly repay them. He wants to _do something_ , like clean around the house, polish the floor, install some shelving for Khánh numerous books and trinkets… but it hurts to move, and when it doesn't hurt, he’s asleep.

He’s able to make lists, though. And plans, a lot of plans of all the things he wants to do, and lists of what he needs to acquire to make it happen.

Soon, another week passes, making it two weeks since the surgery and since Kai started staying with Khánh.

“I think I can start some of my freelancing work again,” Kai says to Khánh one morning. “So maybe I should move...”

“No, just work here! You can work on the dining table...or! Or I can buy another desk for you, would that be okay?”

Kai’s heart immediately feels tight. “I should sit on the couch—”

“Oh, of course! I’ll buy a table that you can use while sitting there,” Khánh decides. “I can order it and have it sent. How about your things, though? I’ll drive you to collect more of your clothes as well.”

And that’s how they end up at the place where Kai lives. It’s a shared house in the suburbs.

“I needed to save money, so…I don’t have my own house like you...”

Khánh smiles faintly. “Kai, there is no need to explain. Now remember, you’re not allowed to do any heavy lifting, so let me, understand?”

Kai nods wryly. 

Luckily, the house is empty during the daytime, with all the housemates out at work. Kai is not _too_ embarrassed about Khánh going through his underwear drawer as part of them packing more of his clothes.

Kai doesn’t have many things, and Khánh insists on packing up enough to fill their car, which ends up meaning all of Kai’s personal belongings are taken back to Khanh’s house.

Not long after, the adjustable-height, moveable desk Khánh has ordered for Kai also arrives. Khánh helps adjust the desk, so Kai can sit on the sofa comfortably and work on his laptop.

“I’m going to stream now...but don’t push yourself, okay?” Khánh hovers worriedly. “If you’re hungry, there is some food in the fridge. I won’t stream too long, then we can make dinner together later…”

“I know, I know,” Kai says, smiling. “Thank you for your help.”

Khánh immediately waves the thanks away. “No thanks between best friends!” they declare.

Thus, with the best intentions, Kai picks up some work again, mostly some tutoring work online.

But he still gets tired easily and really has no energy for doing anything more, so after he finishes the work he’d signed up to do, instead of hunting for more work, Kai ends up looking for Khánh’s livestream.

He cracks a smile when he sees what it is. It’s a Minecraft server filled with food sculptures painstakingly made out of various blocks.

Khánh’s voice flows through his headphones, chatting about food and the latest food sculpture they are making. The scrolling comments are a bit too fast for Kai to read entirely, but a lot of them are like:

[So hungry!!]

[Agreed!]

[Sounds so yumm….]

[HOW???]

[How much money for you to send me this??]

...Actually, it is starting to make Kai feel a bit hungry too, especially when Khánh responds to some comments about how to make those dishes.

Kai decides to make an account. His own comment of [Your sculptures are so awesome!!] quickly get buried under the other comments. He also sneakily subscribes to Khánh’s stream, highest tier.

Khánh’s voice is very nice to listen to. Kai sort of...wants to hear Khánh to read a bedtime story. When a viewer sends money into the stream, Khánh personally thanks them.

_Hmmm…_

Kai quickly adds money to his account and throws it all at Khánh. He grins when Khánh notices, saying, “Thank you to Mr. Turtle for the support!”

Eventually, Khánh wraps up the livestream and says goodbye to their viewers. “You can get all the recipes on my blog, linked below. Have a good day!”

This is the perfect time for Kai to quickly close the livestream tab and innocently open up a tab about home renovation.

Khánh walks quietly over, peeking into the living room.

Kai smiles unconsciously. “I’m done, can I help you make lunch?”

“Okay, you can help me peel the soybeans,” Khánh decides. They quickly head over to push the desk back and help Kai stand up.

In the kitchen, there is a pressure cooker on the stove, the heat long off. “I cooked the soybeans this morning,” Khánh says as they drain the liquid. “And now before I can make soy milk, we peel the skins like this.”

Khánh shows how the skins of the soybeans easily slip right off. The process is not hard, just tedious.

“If you can do that, I can make our actual lunch, which are bánh bao!”

“Bao buns?” Kai says uncertainly. “The ‘bánh’ means bread, or some kind of flour-based product?”

Khánh nods, smiling. “Right. Many Asian countries have bánh bao. Today, I’ll be making a couple of different fillings.”

Khánh quickly makes the dough mixture and leaves it, covered, inside the oven to proof. In the meantime, while Kai is still peeling soybeans, Khánh preps the fillings, asking for Kai’s input along the way.

The traditional Vietnamese filling involves ground pork, wood ear mushrooms, Chinese sausage, and hard-boiled eggs. Because these bao are going to be relatively small, Khánh uses quail eggs. Meanwhile, the sweet bánh bao will have an egg custard filling.

Afterwards, while the dough is still proofing, Khánh helps Kai peel the rest of the soybeans. Half of the soybeans go into a blender with water, and then Khánh filters the soy milk into a saucepan.

“Kai, can you continually stir this? After 10 minutes, you can add in this sugar and these pandan leaves…”

“Yes, I can,” Kai immediately agrees. Even if he’s doing basic, easy tasks, he really likes the feeling of helping out in whichever way he can.

“We can make tofu and use the leftover pulp later,” Khanh says.

Now, Khánh starts heating up the water in the large steamer pot and takes out the bánh bao dough. Small pieces of dough are rolled out and filled. The large bánh bao are the savoury ones, and the smaller bánh bao are the egg custard ones, and they all go into the steamer.

Ten minutes after that, the fragrant green soy milk has cooled to a drinkable temperature, and the bánh bao are done.

“Some people say bao are the Asian version of sandwiches,” Khánh says, smiling. “Though, there’s the Vietnamese bánh mì so…”

Kai cracks a grin. “At least the fillings don’t fall out here,” he says. He pokes the bánh bao on his plate a bit; it’s too hot to touch immediately. He takes his glass of soy milk instead.

He’s no stranger to soy milk, especially after he began coming around to Khánh’s, but he’s never had _homemade_ soy milk, and it’s never been warm or _green_ before either.

He remembers the pandan scent from the waffles, but it’s definitely stronger in the soy milk. Kai takes a sip. _Oh!_ The homemade soy milk tastes so much richer than the supermarket stuff. It’s like the full cream version in comparison to the commercial skim milk. The added sugar and pandan also enhance the soy milk flavour.

“This is so good!” Kai says happily. “I’m never going to be able to drink supermarket soy milk again!”

Khánh takes a sip of their own drink, their lips curving into a smile. “I’m glad you like it. It’s a small matter of adding less water. Oh, I forgot to ask, how was work?”

Kai looks away, a little sheepish. “It was fine, it was just, uh...part time.”

If anything, Khánh looks more worried. “Don’t push yourself, Kai! Did you work the entire time?!”

“No, I watched a Minecraft streamer afterwards.”

Khánh’s eyes widen. “You watched…”

“The food sculptures were so good. I hope they make a walkthrough later.”

Khánh starts to redden. “You watched me.”

Kai also feels like his cheeks are heating up. “Um, if you don’t want me to, then I can stop.”

“...Were you Mr. Turtle?”

Kai smiles sheepishly. “You caught me.” He grabs a bánh bao and takes a big bite, so he won’t say anything more incriminating.

The first thing he gets is the soft and fluffy outside. It tastes slightly sweet, and the chew of it is divine. The inside is a savoury filling, and the wood ear mushrooms give it a bit of bite and texture. And the quail egg is like the best little surprise in the center. Washing it down with the sweet warm soy milk, Kai feels really content.

“This is really delicious. I wish someone made these for me when I was younger. A lot better than school lunches for sure.”

“Hmm…” Khánh’s eyes go wistful. “I wonder what would have happened if we met as kids.”

After thinking about it, Kai makes a face. As a kid...he was a mess of puberty and dysphoria. “I think we met at just the right time,” he decides.

Khánh’s lips curve up. “You think so?”

“Yes,” Kai says firmly.

“Okay, I’ll agree with you.”

The two smile across the table.

  


Art drawn by toutcequonveut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Later, when Kai opens up his wallet to check out how much money he has on hand for those renovations for Khánh’s house, he finds that he has more than expected.
> 
> ...Khánh must have snuck the money in after finding out Kai sent money during the stream. Kai can’t win, can he?
> 
> **Bonus scene 2:**
> 
> _In an alternate universe…_
> 
> Little Kai: Aw, peanut butter and jelly again
> 
> Little Khánh: *drops into the seat next to Kai and sets a huge container full of bánh bao down with an audible _BOOM!*_
> 
> Little Khánh: Did someone say they were hungry?


	20. Mì hoành thánh - Wonton noodle soup

Days blur into weeks, and before Khánh realizes, it’s been a month and a half since the day they opened the door to Kai stumbling out of an Uber. The two of them have settled into an easy rhythm: Khánh doing their online work and streaming from the office, Kai tapping away at his laptop from the couch. Kai works several hours every day, and Khánh worries that he’s pushing himself too hard. 

“This is really nothing,” Kai assures them when they fret a little too openly. “My hours before I met you were a lot worse. I was working two or three jobs to save up for all the takeout I was going to buy while recovering from surgery.” He rubs his stomach contentedly, surveying the mostly-eaten dishes on the table between them. “Luckily, I ended up not having to do that.”

“Certainly not!” Khánh scoffs. “I would never let my _best friend—_ ” If they say it enough times, maybe Kai will morph back into being just Khánh’s best friend and not the subject of their inconvenient crush “—suffer through six weeks of inferior food!” 

Kai smiles gently. “Thank you, again.”

Khánh waves a hand lazily. “You know how I feel about thank-yous between friends. Anyway, tell me more about before you met me. How many hours a day were you working?”

Kai lifts an arm, winces, then raises it more slowly to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. Khánh absently notices that his regrowing hair is starting to curl. “About sixteen. It was especially hard because I don’t have a car and my bike was stolen just before I met you.”

“When you collapsed on the sidewalk…”

“Yeah, I was exhausted and the walk was longer than I thought.”

Khánh frowns and silently places an extra slice of golden kiwi on Kai’s plate.

Kai pops it into his mouth and smiles ruefully. “You don’t have to worry about me, Khánh. I’m doing fine.”

Khánh stubbornly adds another slice of kiwi, then another. “I don’t like that you had to go through that.”

“I’m okay now, though. And I got to meet you because of it, yeah?”

A smile comes to Khánh’s lips. “Yes, that’s very true.”

*

“Can you drive me to a real estate place?” Kai asks one sunny afternoon.

“I can, but why?” Khánh asks, confused.

“My lease is up in a couple weeks, so I should probably go look for a new place—”

_Clatter!_

Khánh bends over to pick up the pan they just dropped, using the time to try to calm down their racing nerves. “Surely you don’t need to go just yet?”

“I guess not, but I’d like to get started soon and get it out of the way.”

“Give me—give me a couple days,” Khánh said in a rush, mind gears whirring busily. Two days should give ample time to come up with some reason to avoid Kai _leaving._ “I have a stream—” _Keep it together, Khánh, he knows your streaming schedule!_ “—I mean, a piece of finish I need to work.”

Kai’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Are you alright? You sound like you’re coming down with a fever again.”

“Very fine, so fine! I’ll just be going now!” Khánh exits the kitchen quickly and heads to the office to plot.

*

An hour later, they push open the office door triumphantly. Khánh can’t believe how long it took them to notice the obvious solution. They blame the ease of the comfortable relationship they share with Kai, but truly, there’s no excuse. 

“Kai,” they call, standing by the head of the couch-converted-bed.

Kai pauses the cute cat video playing on his laptop and looks up. “Yes?”

They point an accusing finger right at his nose. “How long were you going to let me leave you on this couch?”

Kai freezes. “Do… you want me to leave now? I know it’s been tough on you having to take care of me—”

“No no no, we are _not_ talking about you leaving. I mean, haven’t you gotten tired of sleeping on the couch? It’s hardly the most comfortable place, and I’ve had a perfectly good spare bedroom this entire time.” They pause, thinking of the Tetris-like structure of unpacked boxes and things they’ve shoved into the spare bedroom over the past couple years. “Well, maybe not a _perfect_ bedroom but that’s not such a big issue—in fact, you can just sleep in my bed!”

“I couldn’t impose—wait, what?”

“You wouldn’t be imposing, you’re my best friend!” Khánh points at Kai emphatically. “You being here is a privilege, not a burden.”

Kai blushes and ducks his head. “That aside, I would rather keep sleeping on this couch than take your bed.”

“We can share, it’s not like we’re strangers or anything!”

“Your bed is hardly big enough—” Kai’s eyes widen. “Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say—”

“I can go buy a new one then!” Khanh looks at Kai with a very serious face.

Kai makes a very familiar exasperated expression. A moment later, he chuckles. Another follows, and another, and then he’s laughing so hard that he is grimacing with the pain from his chest muscles. The entire time, Khánh stands there with arms crossed.

“What’s so funny?” they demand.

“I—it’s just—oh _hell_ laughing still hurts—” Kai forcibly takes several large breaths, and his laughter subsides somewhat. “Khánh, you really just do whatever you like, don’t you?”

“Yes?” Khánh tilts their head inquisitively. “So do you prefer the left or the right side? Or I suppose I could get one of the mattresses with adjustable sides…”

Kai bursts out laughing again.

*

A few days later, Khánh flings open the bedroom door triumphantly and calls for Kai. The mattress company had helped install the bed, and then Khánh had spent over an hour fixing things up in the bedroom until it’s acceptable for Kai to come see. Kai deserves nothing but _the best_ , after all!

Kai steps gingerly into the room and gasps in shock. Khánh cheers internally. _Success!_

There are all new bamboo sheets and a thick duvet stitched with stylish geometric designs in various shades of green. New curtains in matching green have also been added, lightening the room considerably. There’s now a bedside table on the other side of the bed as well and a lamp to go with it. Both a memory foam pillow and a regular pillow for the both of them sit atop the sheets, and Mr. Turtle is perched on a special pillow of his own. With his addition, it’s clear that all the new decor was picked out with the intention to match him.

“Is this… your room or Mr. Turtle’s?” Kai asks. 

“Don’t be silly, of _course_ it’s Mr. Turtle’s,” Khanh sniffs. “But he has graciously allowed us both to share the space with him. Now, let me show you how the firmness adjuster works…”

*

That night, Khánh hums tunelessly as they fix dinner for the two of them. Setting up the bedroom had taken more out of them than expected, so it’s a simple meal tonight. A container of pork broth from the freezer, store-bought wontons, two packets of instant noodles, and long stalks of gai lan (Chinese broccoli) all go into a pot. Once everything is ready, they spoon out two bowls’ worth and garnish with green onion, fried shallots, and a few slices of chilis.

The whole meal takes less than 30 minutes to prepare, but Kai doesn’t seem to enjoy it any less despite the reduced effort. He cleans his bowl of broth and eats all of the persimmon Khánh cuts up for him too. Khánh feels their heart squeeze in relief at Kai’s improved appetite. Seeing him happy and healthy is all they really want for him.

After dinner, they watch an episode of the new series Kai has picked out, _Night on Earth_. Khánh clings to Kai’s arm in anxiety watching the stressful scene of baby sea turtles dodging predatory seagulls and sharks on their way to the ocean. When the featured baby makes it into the water without getting eaten, they cheer into Kai’s ear.

Eventually, it’s time for bed. Khánh gets ready first and when they switch and Kai is getting ready, they prepare their final surprise.

When Kai re-enters the bedroom in the baggy sweats he uses as sleep clothes, he immediately spots the difference. 

“Khánh… is Mr. Turtle wearing custom-made pajamas that match the sheets?”

“When will you learn to stop questioning Mr. Turtle’s decisions?” Khánh shakes their head disappointingly from their position on the left side of the bed and runs a finger down the soft fabric of the turtle outfit. “He only has _the best_ quality things. He _is_ a CEO, after all.”

“Right, how could I have forgotten? Please forgive me, President Turtle.”

“That’s better. Now come, get in bed and turn off the light. Tomorrow’s another day!” 

Kai does as instructed, and soon the room sinks into shadowy darkness. Khánh flips onto their side, back to Kai, and tucks the body pillow between their legs as usual. They do their best to fall asleep for about thirty seconds, but unfortunately, their rapidly beating heart doesn’t slow at all. They shift their legs one way, then the other. Their hands reach up and fiddle with the duvet cover. They concentrate on breathing slowly and deeply, but ultimately, nothing works. They can’t forget that just a little bit behind them is Kai. _Sharing! Their! Bed!_

They pull out their phone in defeat, curling up further under the covers to prevent the light from shining into Kai’s eyes. They’re not sure if he’s even facing their direction, but it never hurts to be safe. Opening the browser, Khánh starts typing in the search bar “what to do when you share a bed with someone you like but you don’t know if they like you?”

Finding a somewhat relevant Reddit post, they eventually fall asleep to the wild stories of online strangers and Kai’s steady breathing from just behind them.

  
  
Art drawn by toutcequonveut  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> _In an alternate universe…_  
>  Kai, lying on his side facing the opposite way, is also typing furiously on his phone: “Fellas, is it normal to have heart palpitations after top surgery when sleeping in a bed with someone who’s been taking care of you?”
> 
> *
> 
> **Bonus scene 2:**
> 
> Coworker: Hey, I’ve missed you! How are you?
> 
> Kai: Doing a lot better, thanks. I’ve actually been thinking about reducing my hours
> 
> Coworker: QAQ Please don’t leave me alone with the teenagers...


	21. Bò lá lốt - Grilled beef wrapped in betel leaf

By the time Kai wakes up, Khánh is already gone. In fact, Kai has slept longer than usual: the bed is indeed a lot comfier than the sofa.

It’s not _super_ weird to share a bed right? They’re both good friends, and the bed is big enough. In the olden days, friends and families shared large beds all the time, and since Khánh was the one to suggest it, maybe Khánh is used to it? Maybe Khanh has shared a bed with friends or siblings in the past? They’ve mentioned siblings before, but Kai isn’t sure how many they have since they rarely talk about their family at all.

Either way, since Khánh is not acting weird about it, Kai is also not going to act weird about it. What’s so weird about sharing a bed platonically? Screw toxic masculinity and capitalism that says everyone must have their own bed!

Now that Khánh has decided for Kai to stay here, they drive Kai to their old rented place once more to get the last of Kai’s things and drop off the keys to the other housemates early.

Kai’s keychain lightens: now he has the keys to Khánh’s place, and a key to Khánh’s car.

“Khánh…”

Khánh perks up. “Yes, Kai?” they ask brightly. “What can I do for you?”

“We should split the rent…”

Khánh’s face immediately goes _no_. “Why? I already own this house! I’m not renting! You don’t even have your own room!”

“But—”

“I insisted you stay here, so I can’t, _won’t_ let you pay anything,” Khánh insists.

“How about the bills?” Kai tries. “Can I at least pay those? And the groceries?”

Khánh immediately shakes their head.

“...I just don’t want to feel like I’m impinging on you.”

“...You’re not…”

Kai sighs and pulls a smile on his face. “Okay, it is _your_ home after all. I really appreciate it. I really appreciate you.” He’ll have to figure out some other way to help Khánh...

Khánh’s resolve visibly wavers. “Fine! You can pay for the groceries whenever you go shopping with me.”

Kai’s smile immediately broadens in relief. “Okay! It’s more fun going shopping together, anyway.”

Khánh’s cheeks inexplicably redden. “Yeah.”

Kai clears his throat. “Um, I should go work now…”

“Right, right! I should start streaming soon!”

The two of them scatter.

Kai fiddles with his work setup in the living room. Unbeknownst to him, there is now a light rain outside, concluding the end of summer.

Kai usually has his headphones on when completing his online work. Isn’t it curious to think that Khánh is online at the same time? If he takes his headphones off and listens carefully, he can hear the low indistinct murmur that is Khánh talking to their viewers. 

*

The two month appointment post-surgery comes and goes. Kai can physically feel how much easier it is to move. He can _finally do things_.

In the morning, the two of them play some Minecraft together, have lunch, and then both “go to work”, i.e. Khánh to their office and Kai to the living room where his desk is still set up. 

After he finishes work for the day, he starts cleaning, straightening the various things in the house, wiping the surfaces, and cleaning the floor. He leaves Khánh’s office room for last, listening out for when Khánh does their customary good-bye to their viewers.

Khánh opens their door when they finished, blinking in surprise to see Kai waiting there. “...What are you doing?”

“Cleaning!” Kai says brightly. “Well, actually, I wanted to polish the floors too...but I would need your help to move the furniture and clear the floor first...I mean, I probably _could_ do it myself, it’ll just take a bit of time.”

Khánh immediately says, “No, then we’ll do it together!”

 _That_ becomes the start of big undertaking. After going to purchase all the necessary items together (Kai’s quicker than Khánh and manages to pay—victory!), they decide on the order of the rooms, and end up doing the living room, half of the hallway, and the spare bedroom first. All the furniture is moved to Khánh’s study room and the bedroom, and they have to go over the floors a number of times, cleaning it and putting down the new polish, and _then_ they have to wait at least 24 hours.

After two days, they move all the furniture back and move onto the remainder of the house, including the kitchen and the main bedroom. Beforehand, Kai helps Khánh set up a temporary “outdoor” kitchen on the back veranda, and the bed and desks are moved into the living room.

It is very weird to see the bed in the middle of the living room like that.

“Ah, we can move it to the spare bedroom if you want instead,” Khánh says.

“No, no,” Kai quickly says. It took a lot of effort to move the bed into the living room. “It’s like...camping in the living room!”

All of a sudden, Khánh’s eyes light up. “Camping! Kai, that’s such a great idea! I have all the ingredients too!”

“...Ingredients?”

A bewildered Kai follows Khánh out to the veranda where the food and cooking implements have been temporarily placed; Khánh has also put up some protective plastic sheets so that the cold wind is blocked out. 

“Since we’re outside with the grill, this will be perfect!” Khánh gives Kai a plate of fragrant deep green leaves to wash while Khánh mixes up minced beef, lemon grass, garlic, and various other spices.

“This is called bò lá lốt, or grilled beef wrapped in betel leaves,” Khánh explains. A small cylinder of meat is placed near the end of one leaf, then the leaf is rolled up, with the stem of the leaf poking back into the roll to close it. Khánh skewers one onto a bamboo skewer.

“Oh, bò means beef, right?” Kai recalls. He helps Khánh roll up dozens more, producing a number of large skewers.

“Yes, very good!”

While Khánh is in charge of the grill, they direct Kai to boil water to soften up the sheets of rice vermicelli and take out the pickled carrots and radish. The bò lá lốt don’t take long to grill. They have a fragrant smell that is deep and rich, with the slight sweetness of the betel leaf and the grill unami of the beef.

Kai also chops up some roasted peanuts while Khánh quickly whips up the dipping sauce. Combined with fresh lettuce, just like that, they have a meal!

Kai sniffs appreciatively. Grill meat always smells so good, and the added scent of the betel leaf enhances it. “It smells so good,” Kai says, just to emphasise it.

Khánh grins. “It does.”

The bò lá lốt is just as good as it smells, even better with it so close. The pickled vegetables and fresh greens are the perfect palate cleanser that make the next bite of beef just as good. Underneath it all, the sheets of bánh hỏi support and blend the flavors together. Kai’s eyes curve in happiness. Delicious food with Khánh after hard work? Perfect.

After they finish, Khánh declares, “Now for dessert!”

Kai perks up. Will they have grilled mango with sweetened coconut cream? Grilled peaches? Grilled bananas?

Instead, Khánh takes out a bag of marshmallows, a block of chocolate, and a box of biscuits. “Surprise! S’mores, for the full camping experience!”

Kai’s lips quirk into a smile. “That’s true,” he readily agrees.

They construct a s’more each, wrapping them in foil and placing them on the grill.

“Have you ever eaten s’mores before?” Kai asks.

Khánh tilts their head. “Nope! The first time I’m having them, and with you too.”

“Hm.” Kai looks away, inexplicably touched.

The hot foil packets are taken off the grill and onto their plates.

After quickly blowing on theirs, Khánh takes a bite. “Hm...hm………….”

Kai laughs. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s too sweet,” Khánh finally says, sounding disappointed. “They look so good, too…”

“Hm, why don’t you add some fruit to balance it out? Or you could cut the marshmallow in half, or add less chocolate.”

Khánh nods, and it’s clear that they’re thinking very deeply. “All very good ideas.”

As such, they end up with all kinds of s’mores: dark chocolate, peanut butter, strawberries, kiwi, and mango.

Afterwards, they clean up and both lie down in bed in the living room together, the TV playing Khánh’s latest favourite documentary.

Kai’s lips quirk up in fondness, as Khánh watches the screen with a bright eagerness.

“Ahh, Kai, did you see that? It’s so cute!”

In this way, sleeping in the living room doesn’t feel weird at all. In fact, Kai feels very, very cosy.

  
  
Art drawn by toutcequonveut  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Khánh: I made a s’mores! But I made some substitutions
> 
> Kai: Oh, it’s probably fine. What’d you make?
> 
> Khánh: Well, the marshmallow and chocolate were too sweet, so I switched them out for some grilled beef and pickled vegetables. And I also switched out the Graham crackers for rice noodles! Doesn’t it look delicious?
> 
> Kai: …


	22. TẾT TRUNG THU - MID-AUTUMN FESTIVAL

After the floors are done like new and all the furniture is put back where they belong, Kai expresses a strong urge to continue additions to the house. 

He makes Khánh sit still while he installs shelving in the kitchen, making more room for Khánh’s impulsive grocery habits. 

Afterwards, the two sit in the living room in a comfortable silence. Eventually, Kai looks up from scrolling his phone.

“Khánh.”

“Yes?”

“This list says that phở is a perfect food for autumn.” He looks out the sliding glass door, surveying the yellowing stems of Khánh’s summer vegetables and the blazing warm colors of the leaves on the trees. “I just had a thought…how come you’ve never made phở?”

Khánh turns to face Kai fully. “What’s phở?” they ask, a studiously blank expression on their face.

Kai’s forehead creases. “I thought it was the classic Vietnamese dish? It’s the only one I’d really heard of before I met you.”

“Can you describe it to me? I’m not sure I’m familiar with it.”

“It—wait a second. You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

The smile that’s been threatening to reveal itself finally bursts forth onto Khánh’s lips. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it!” they laugh. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask, to be honest.”

“Why?”

Khánh leans back against the armrest of their chair and also turns to look at the bright foliage outside. “Anticipation, I suppose? I knew you didn’t know a lot about Vietnamese culture, but almost everyone knows about _that_ part of Vietnamese culture.” They rub a corner of their shirt between their fingers in thought. “I don’t even really _like_ phở that much, truthfully.”

“Why not?” Kai thinks back. He _has_ had pho before, though he can’t really remember.

“Well…” Khánh makes a guilty expression. “It’s just that everyone hypes it up so much, even though there are _so many_ other Vietnamese dishes that are just as good, or even better. Eating phở, or bánh mì, it’s really...the tip of the iceberg of Vietnamese dishes, and the very un-adventurous tip too. And although I can make it at home, there are also some very good dedicated phở restaurants.”

Kai slowly nods thoughtfully, as he recalls the wide variety of fresh and richly flavored dishes he has had the pleasure to eat in Khánh’s company.

“But anyway, phở is supposed to be an _all_ the time food. Looking at the leaves outside, we should do something truly autumn, like the mid-autumn festival!” Khánh pauses, brow furrowing as they think of today’s date and compare it to the usual date of Tết Trung Thu. “Ah, it’s a _little_ past the festival itself, but we can still eat the dishes. Oh, this is so exciting! We’ll probably need the rest of today for gathering ingredients and preparing, and then we can actually celebrate tomorrow...”

So the next day finds them both in the kitchen. Together, Khánh and Kai work together in the arduous process of making traditional mooncakes, snowskin mooncakes, and glutinous rice balls in sweet ginger syrup. While it would have been much easier to simply buy everything, Khánh finds it hard to let go of an idea once they think of it.

Kai is tasked with mixing the filling while Khánh takes care of the dough for the regular mooncakes. Since it's just the two of them, they only make two of each flavor. Khánh has an inordinate amount of fun using the dough press, especially when they see the joy it brings Kai as he marvels over the intricate patterns. A coating of egg wash, some baking time in the oven, and the traditional mooncakes are taken care of. 

Khánh then turns to forming the dough for the snowskin mooncakes. The main difference lies in the pleasingly white dough of the snowskin ones.

Kai pokes experimentally at it. "It feels a lot different from the other one," he comments.

"Yes, in Vietnamese they’re called bánh dẻo, which means ‘flexible cake’. They’re made with steamed rice flour flavored with pomelo, which some say is the flavor of autumn in Hanoi."

"As long as you make it, I'm sure it will be delicious." Kai smiles warmly, and Khánh feels their heart skip a beat. They hurriedly look down at the bowl of dough to hide their blush.

"Yes, well, I'm planning on splitting the dough into two batches. The plain one will use this matcha and mung bean filling recipe, and the other will have pandan dough and just mung bean filling. Speaking of which, can you start boiling some water and sugar for the mung beans?"

Once the filling and dough are both ready, Khánh brings out the second, heavier set of molds they bought yesterday. Soon, both batches of snowskin mooncakes are stamped with intricate lotuses and swirls. Khánh puts them into the fridge and clears the counters for the third dish.

Using the rest of the mung beans they started soaking the night before, they use a food processor to mince the beans and then steam the resulting paste. Kai is again given responsibility for rolling the filling into little balls while Khánh prepares the glutinous rice flour dough for the skins. Then, each sphere of filling is wrapped in a blanket of dough.

Just as Khánh is about to prepare the sweet ginger syrup for the chè trôi nước, Kai pipes up, "It's getting dark, and these all seem like sweet dishes. Are we going to have dinner or just eat these?"

"Ah, I seem to have forgotten..." Khánh's eyebrows furrow in thought. "Let me see what we have that's fitting for autumn."

After foraging through the expanded shelves Kai built for them, Khánh emerges with kabocha squashes. While not Vietnamese, it seems very fall to eat such a cheerily orange food. They cut off the tops of two squash, scoop out all the seeds, and prepare a chicken stew that they then spoon into the kabocha. They replace the tops of the squashes and steam them for an hour, during which Khánh arranges all the mooncakes prettily and makes sure everything will be ready.

Once the kabocha is ready, they step out to the living room to call Kai and stop in their tracks.

Kai turns around and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, the edges of his arms and shoulders cast into sharp relief by the innumerable small lanterns he has placed around the seating area outside on the deck as well as around the living room. There's a wide variety of designs ranging from the classic paper lanterns to ones shaped like koi and flowers and dragons.

"When did you get all these?" Khánh asks breathlessly.

"Yesterday, when you were looking at groceries for a while. I hope it's okay, I looked up Vietnamese decorations for mid-autumn festival and it seemed to be lots of lanterns, but I wasn't sure which lanterns to get, but these were on sale, and—"

"It's beautiful!" Khánh enthuses, and if they are looking at Kai while they say it, he probably can't tell in the lantern-light.

The two of them put on warm clothes—Khánh stands on tiptoe to wrap one of their thick fluffy scarves around Kai's neck before they deem him adequately prepared for the evening chill—and carry all the food outside. They discover that Kai has also placed lanterns around the garden, setting the turning leaves aglow. As they dig into the kabocha chicken stew and then split mooncakes and chè with Kai amidst the lanterns' illumination and the brisk breeze, they can't help but glance at his face in the flickering glow and feel that being in love is truly wonderful.

  
Art drawn by toutcequonveut  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Coworker: *spamming Kai with pictures of their baby* 
> 
> Kai: …
> 
> Kai: *spamming Coworker with pictures of Mr. Turtle*


	23. Bánh hỏi nem nướng - Vermicelli rice sheets with grilled pork skewers

Kai doesn't know exactly when it happens, but he’s almost fully recovered. He and the accompanying Khánh have been to the doctor's office a few more times and now, it's just a long waiting game for the scars to slowly fade.

Outside the trees are dappled orange-red-gold, and brisk cold winds often blow. Kai has taken advantage of the daylight hours before winter arrives to plant new autumn-suitable herbs and vegetables.

Inside, there's a new landscape painting hanging in the living room, which Kai and Khánh have jointly painted. On the new shelves, Khánh has organised a number of cookbooks and Kai has some language and culture texts. On the coffee table, a number of loved coffee-table books filled with exquisite nature photography, and a recent addition—a large landscaping book that Kai has splurged on to buy because he feels like he finally has the money and stability to own such an item. Kai's new guitar is also leaning against the corner. Unsurprisingly, Khánh bought it for him after they learnt that Kai used to play before he sold his previous guitar for the money.

On one particularly cloudless Saturday morning, Kai flicks through his phone.

"It says here that the autumn-winter gardens are at peak viewing, with the last blooming of flowers before the winter. Do you want to go?"

Khánh nods eagerly. "Let's go! Is it far? I have a stream in the afternoon."

As if Kai hasn’t memorised Khánh's streaming schedule! "No, it's not too far."

And so, after finishing breakfast and kitting up in warm clothes, Kai drives them to the gardens.

Khánh fusses with Kai's new scarf before they let him out of the car. Both of them have matching patterned scarfs that Khánh bought after realising the huge deficit in Kai's wardrobe.

The gardens are filled with different themed areas. While there are some evergreens, the main corridors of trees are filled with golden autumn leaves, which are set dazzlingly against the blue sky. 

(The blue sky is misleading; it's quite cold.)

Khánh's eyes glow. They immediately use their camera to snap pictures _everywhere_. When Khánh hurries ahead to get the perfect angle, Kai takes a picture of Khánh against the garden backdrop.

Flowers such as crocuses, nerines, and begonias are bright bursts of colour. With the blue sky, one could be tricked into thinking that such a picture was taken on a warm day.

"Oh, begonias! We could have a hanging basket with them..." Khánh says, eagerly reading the little factoid plaque for the flowers.

"Okay." Kai carefully notes this down on his phone.

They are not the only ones in the garden. There are other adults, friends and couples, strolling. As the hour passes, family groups start to appear, complete with noisy kids running around.

Kai watches them. They're so carefree... "Do you have many siblings?"

Khánh falters. "I have two sisters. They're...we were all pretty close when we were young."

"Oh? I wish I had siblings sometimes."

Khánh has a nostalgic smile. "Yeah… actually, since the year I stopped seeing my parents, they both keep sending me messages saying they want to meet up ."

"Do you want to?" Kai keeps his voice soft. He doesn't know the details about Khánh's familial relationships, so he doesn't want to push if Khánh's uncomfortable.

"They were never _hostile_ ," Khánh finally says.

"Maybe they want to repair the relationship between you..."

"Maybe."

Back in the main thoroughfares, the permanent cafe has opened, and a number of food stands have appeared. The scents of coffee and hotdogs spread through the air.

Kai turns to Khánh. "Let's go home and make our own lunch."

Khánh's eyes brighten. "Oh, I have just the thing! Remember the meat I marinated the other night..."

*

When they return home, coats come off and are hung up side-by-side. In the kitchen, Kai turns on the oven while Khánh pulls out many different ingredients.

When the oven has preheated, the marinated meat goes in on a wire rack with a tray underneath: it's xá xíu, Vietnamese barbecue pork. The xá xíu in the oven will be flipped after 30 minutes, and after another thirty minutes, it needs to be covered with a honey glaze with the oven turned up to obtain a decadent caramelisation. After that is done, the pork must be left to rest before Khánh can slice it up thinly to serve.

In the meantime, as it cooks, Khánh creates another meat dish: nem nướng. Nem nướng begins with very fatty pork (or a mixture of pork and pork fat trimmings) and various different flavourings including the quintessential fish sauce and a number of other ingredients that turn the pork slightly pink.

Kai helps Khánh form the nem nướng by shaping them onto the bamboo skewers.

The smell of cooking meat fills the kitchen when Khánh opens the oven to flip the xá xíu. Timed for everything to finish at the same time, the nem nướng will go in a little later; they only need about 20 minutes in the oven.

Then it's time to prepare the other components: Khánh makes the dipping sauce while Kai diligently prepares the sheets of rice vermicelli (“We’ve had these before… bánh hỏi? Is that right?” “Yes! Kai, you’re getting very good at this!”), fresh salad, and fresh herbs from the garden.

Soon the dining table is filled with multiple different dishes: a plate of thinly sliced xá xíu, a plate of strips of nem nướng pulled off their skewers, and various bowls of the vermicelli, salad, herbs, pickled carrots and radish, and dipping sauce. Khánh also pours them both a cup of hot oolong tea.

The mixed scent of the xá xíu and nem nương is _divine_. Kai's mouth has been watering for _ages._

"You go first," Kai says.

"No, you go first!" Khánh counters.

"We'll both go first," Kai concedes with a grin.

With their chopsticks, they both pick up a little bit of everything, with a drizzle of the nước chấm over their bowls.

Kai achieves bliss as the food enters his mouth. The xá xíu is tender and richly flavoured, all the spices adding together to produce something greater than their parts, not to mention the deeply roasted and caramelised qualities. The nem nướng, on the other hand, is fatty, less sweet, more savoury, and the outside edge is crispy too.

"This is so good! Khánh, you are amazing!"

Khánh smiles. "Which one do you like best?"

Kai gives Khánh a look. "Don't make me choose! I love both of them!"

"Kaaaai," Khánh whines.

"Both. I like both," Kai says firmly. "Also, earlier when the meat was cooking, I ordered some begonia sets and hanging pots."

Khánh's eyes immediately brighten. "Really? You did? Thank you!"

"No thanks between friends!"

Khánh chuckles. "Oh, but hanging flower pots...where are we going to put them?"

"We have a _lot_ of veranda space to hang them from," Kai puts out, amused.

Khánh grills them on the colours of the begonias that Kai has ordered and then moves on to recalling their favourite parts of the garden.

Kai spaces out a little watching Khánh’s bright face. His chest feels very soft and sweet. He knows he likes them… but he doesn’t want to confess and risk changing everything. Living like two best friends like this, it’s much, much better than Kai could have ever imagined.

  
  


Art drawn by toutcequonveut  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> _In an alternate universe…_
> 
> Kai: “No thanks between friends!”
> 
> Khánh: “How about between lovers?”
> 
> Kai: owo
> 
> *smooching commences*


	24. Trà sữa - Bubble tea

Khánh feels like they are floating in a cloud of bliss. Every day is filled with Kai, talking, working, laughing, and eating with him. Every night passes in the bed they share—firm on Kai's side, soft on Khánh's—with Mr. Turtle on his custom-made pillow between the two of them.

They jointly decide to keep the Christmas and New Years celebrations casual, which for Khánh means only making enough food for five people instead of ten.

And then, in the two weeks before Tết, Khánh's sisters text again asking to meet up. 

Khánh checks their phone and slams it down quickly enough that Kai, playing Minecraft with Khánh on his laptop, glances sharply at them. 

"Is everything okay?" he asks.

"Yes, it's fine, no worries," Khánh assures hurriedly. "Oh, what if we built a house on the mountain here? It's right by the ocean, the view would be nice—"

Kai squints, scrutinizing them. "Are you _sure?"_

"—I'd make my room, but yours could be different, certainly. Unless you wanted a different house entirely? Oh, or maybe connecting houses, I could make a tunnel—"

"Khánh!"

"...Yes?"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Khánh opens their mouth to continue to deny any problems, then pauses. This is _Kai_ , their best friend. Of course he'll want to listen and help. It's been so long since Khánh has really had anyone to rely on that they have to fight off the old instinct of pretending everything is fine. 

"I got another text from my sisters asking to meet up," they admit. 

A short silence settles, then Kai prompts, "This has happened before, right?" 

"Yes."

"So what makes this time different?"

Khánh looks out the window, contemplating. "I think it's because this time I'm actually considering it. It's been so long, and we were so close when we were younger..."

A hand cover's Khánh's on the keyboard. They look up sharply to see Kai's face surprisingly close to their own, close enough that they can smell the sharpness of the ginger tea from lunch. Every cell in their body is suddenly paying very close attention.

"I think you should do it," Kai murmurs.

"Hm?" Khánh hums inquiringly, unable to make any other forms of speech in the face of Kai _right there next to them_.

"You said so yourself that you were close before, and that kind of love goes both ways. I don't think them wanting to meet up with you indicates that they want to hurt you."

Khánh thinks about that, about how it's not just them who was hurt when their parents outright refused to believe or acknowledge their coming out. They can still remember the stricken looks on their sisters' faces as they left the house the next day with all their packed belongings.

"I suppose it's almost Tết," they muse. "In the spirit of goodwill for the coming new year... alright, I'll go."

Kai gives them a brief hug, then sinks back into his chair and opens up his laptop again. "Now, what were you saying about adjoining houses on a seaside mountain?"

*

The chosen meeting place is a bubble tea shop in the city, casual yet busy enough that the multitudes of people streaming in and out won't look twice at the awkward, tense conversation in the corner.

At least, that's how Khánh thinks this confrontation is going to go as they huddle in their seat, fingers tapping nervously on the untouched drink in front of them, eyes darting among the customers. Despite their flightiness, Khánh still doesn't spot their sisters until they notice two sets of legs coming to a stop in front of their table.

Slowly, their gaze travels up and up and—

"Khánh!" Uyên throws herself forward, hugging Khánh so tightly they can't quite breathe (which doesn't really matter because they are squeezing back just as tightly) and lifting them up to swing them in a circle. 

"Uyên!" they laugh in radiant joy. Dazedly, their thoughts keep fixating on her complete lack of hesitation in giving them her usual greeting or using their chosen name instead of their deadname.

"Forget about me?" Khánh barely has time to brace themself before a pair of arms wraps around the both of them and lifts them upwards, swinging once, before setting everyone down again.

They turn to embrace their other sister, only managing to pick her up and swing her a little, as usual. It's good to see that some things haven't changed. "Phượng! It's so good to see you!" Pulling back, Khánh surveys their two sisters. "Wow. You both look _great_."

"So do you!" Uyên enthuses. She leans forward to flick the long side of Khánh's asymmetric haircut. Her smile softening, she says, "You look so much happier."

"Bubble tea first, heartwarming sentiments later," Phượng demands. "I've been working in a town where there isn't a bubble tea shop as far as the eye can see, and I'm planning to make the most of this trip. Khánh, what did you get?"

"Mango yogurt with aiyu jelly and basil seeds."

"Alright, and Uyên is probably going to get the wintermelon milk tea with pudding because she never tries anything new—"

"Hey!"

"—so I'll get one of the milk caps or cheese foams or whatever they call it here and we can share like always."

After the two of them order and obtain their drinks, Khánh and their sisters sit down at the little corner table. To Khánh's surprise, it's not awkward at all. Uyên leaps right in talking about the latest family gossip, and Phượng adds in scathing details that threaten to shock Khánh's eyebrows off their face. 

Then their eyebrows really do leap for the sky because their gaze catches on _Kai on the other side of the shop._ He's holding a large cup of bubble tea and wearing a beanie and a blanket scarf that obscures half his face, but Khánh knows every item in his wardrobe (in a decidedly un-creepy way) and they _know_ it’s Kai.

Once their eyes meet, Khánh immediately waves him over. All three of their favorite people are in the same place! Of course they should meet! Kai's shoulders droop, but he comes over gamely.

"Kai, these are my sisters, Uyên and Phượng," Khánh introduces. "Uyên, Phượng, this is my best friend Kai."

"Oh, you can call us Wendy and Fiona," Phượng says, eyes scanning down the length of Kai's figure before flicking back and forth between him and Khánh.

"Would you prefer that?" Kai asks. He can't seem to stop looking between Khánh and their sisters. "Uyên and Phượng sound nice."

"They're themed names," Khánh explains. "Hoàng Phượng and Hoàng Uyên. I told you before that the Hoàng part means 'royal', and both Phượng and Uyên are types of phoenixes." Turning to their sisters, they exclaim, "Isn't Kai's pronunciation good? He studied linguistics in university, and he's been learning Vietnamese online since we met."

"Please don't ask me to say anything," Kai begs drily.

"Your pronunciation is really good!" Uyên stands and leans over the table to shake his hand, and a moment later Phượng does the same. Her face is expressionless, though it's obvious to Khánh that she's scrutinizing Kai. 

Once everyone is seated again, Uyên starts chatting again. "Speaking of which, Khánh, I've always meant to ask how you chose your new name?" 

Khánh blushes; the reasoning always sounds so _silly_ outside the confines of their own head. "I spent a lot of time looking through a lot of names before deciding on Khánh. One interpretation of its meaning is the name an emperor would call someone they loved. Since I already knew I wanted to keep the Hoàng part of my name—" they smile and nod bashfully at their sisters "—it felt fitting to pick a name an emperor would use. And then it became clear that my parents weren't going to treat me as someone they loved, so I decided _I_ was going to treat myself that way by making my name that of one who is loved, and every time I hear my name or say my name, it would be the sound of love."

Silence falls over the table, and Khánh feels like they are about to combust in embarrassment when suddenly Uyên leaps to her feet again and hugs Khánh across the table. At the same time, under the table, they feel Kai's hand seek theirs and give a tight squeeze. 

"That's so beautiful!" Uyên gushes. "And you kept the cultural significance too! I can't believe our parents are still being such jerks about you being nonbinary."

"I can," Phượng mutters, staring darkly into her cup. She looks up directly into Khánh's eyes and adds, "Good job on the name."

"Thanks," Khánh replies shyly. They sip at their drink to disguise the lingering embarrassment.

Phượng takes a sip of her drink as well and then, deceptively calmly, asks, "So, Kai, how did you and Khánh meet?"

Kai squeaks a bit, his cheeks going red. "I, er, walk past their house on the way home from work. We ended up talking one day a few months ago."

"Oh? Khánh, didn't we teach you better than to talk to strangers?" she teases, head resting lightly on one hand.

"Oh Phượng, I haven't even mentioned yet that he's been inside my house!" _And in my bed._

" _What!_ Didn't we teach you better than to let strangers into your home?"

"Ooh, Khánh, you still have to show us pictures of your house!"

"Uyên, we have more important things to find out right now than what the inside of Khánh's house looks like—"

"Quit acting so high and mighty, like you aren't also curious—"

"I am curious, but I am _trying_ to conduct an information-gathering mission over here—"

Through the bickering, Khánh feels a tug on their sleeve. They turn to Kai, who leans in close to their ear. "Somehow, the way you talked about your sisters, I thought they were _younger_ sisters!" Kai whispers furiously.

"When did I ever give that impression?" Khánh whisper-demands back. "My sisters are five and seven years older than me!"

"Holy shit, _that's_ why I feel like I'm being interrogated!" Kai hisses, bug-eyed with terror.

"They're not _that_ scary," Khánh reassures, patting Kai's leg comfortingly.

Sudden quiet prompts them to look up. Uyên and Phượng are both staring at them. 

"Maybe you do have a point," they hear Uyên whisper to Phượng. Then, louder, she asks, "Anyway, do you have pictures of the house on your phone?"

"Why don't you come over for Tết and you can see it then?" Khánh's mouth replies without their permission. An instant later, their brain catches up with them and their eyes widen. "Ah, unless it would make it awkward with the parents, I know Tết is a family holiday and you're all back in town to be with family—"

Phượng reaches over and ruffles Khánh's hair, a rare true smile blooming on her face. "You've already invited us, it's too late. Of course we'll come to Tết at your place."

" _Yes!_ I won't have to help Mom cook!" Uyên crows.

"Oh no," Kai murmurs faintly.

  
  
Art drawn by toutcequonveut  


Note: Bubble tea is not actually Vietnamese, so instead this drawing is of Vietnamese smoothies. The center one is mango, the left is avocado, and the right is durian. Yes, avocado is considered a dessert food in Vietnam!  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Kai: You’re married, right? Does being terrified of your in-laws ever go away?
> 
> Coworker: It’s kind of rough at first, but then you get used to it
> 
> Coworker: WAIT KAI are you ENGAGED??
> 
> [Kai has logged off]
> 
> Coworker: KAAAAAAAI
> 
> *
> 
> Note 1: I included all the accents in Khánh’s family’s names in this story, but in my own experience, I feel that most second-generation Vietnamese living outside of Vietnam will say their names without the accent when speaking English. However, something about Vietnamese is that some diacritic marks demark tones while others denote different pronunciations of the same letter. For example, ‘e’ and ‘ê’ have the same tone, but the letter itself sounds different. For that reason, I can write Uyên, but writing Phượng as Phương would completely change the name and meaning, and in the end I couldn’t bring myself to do that >.< So just imagine that they’re saying each others’ names flat, without tones.
> 
> Note 2: So the actual phrase for phoenix is Phượng Hoàng, but in order to keep the naming pattern, Khánh’s oldest sister’s name in Vietnamese order is Nguyễn Hoàng Phượng. Though my sister’s opinion is that this is equivalent to a nonsense name like Cho Chang, 1) Khánh’s family is living outside of Vietnam and screwy things happen to names overseas due to the change in name order and 2) names are often built together like building blocks based on originally-Chinese characters, which is why the words that make up someone’s name are often not the same as the everyday words for the meaning of that name. I built the sisters’ names off this basis of building blocks so as to keep “Hoàng” as the middle name that they share with Khánh.
> 
> Note 3: For anyone linguistically inclined (you know who you are ;D) here is the IPA for the sisters' names:  
> Phượng: fɨəŋ˧ˀ˩ (Northern) or fɨəŋ˨˧ (Southern)  
> Uyên: ʔwiən˧˧
> 
> A simplified guide: Phượng is pronounced like "foo-ung" but pronounced such that it's one syllable (sorry, no English equivalent for that sound!). Uyên is pronounced like "wee-uhn", also pronounced such that it's one syllable


	25. TẾT - LUNAR NEW YEAR (Part 1)

The days leading up to Tết finds Kai urgently reading up on Vietnamese Lunar New Year traditions and asking Khánh about them. Khánh is obviously in charge of food, so Kai eagerly takes the role of providing appropriate decorations, from golden apricot flowers to joyful red lanterns and red new year greeting banners.

In the very last few days before Tết, Kai then shifts into a frenzy of cleaning. He cleans the insides, the outsides, the floors, the surfaces, the ceilings! Broken things are repaired, old things are replaced. In the first three days of Tết, there will be no cleaning; otherwise, good fortune will be swept out.

Meanwhile, Khánh is busy cooking some traditional Tết foods: bánh chưng and mứt dừa.

Banh chưng is a sticky rice cake traditionally with a filling of fatty pork and mashed mung beans. Kai helps Khánh with the final construction, adding layers of soaked glutinous sweet rice, mung bean, and pork on top of banana leaves, all pressed into a square mold. They're wrapped up and cooked in boiling water for hours. They also make a small cylindrical version with a banana filling for a sweet alternative.

Mứt dừa are candied coconut ribbons. After the difficult task of extracting whole pieces of white coconut meat, the chunks are cut into ribbons and mixed with various food colourings (including pandan) and a lot of sugar. The ribbons are then cooked in batches and then dried and candied.

And _then_ there is the entire new year feast, featuring homemade fried spring rolls and a whole selection of meat and Vietnamese salad dishes.

“We...really can’t eat of this,” Kai says, crying inside. He _wants_ to eat all of it.

Khánh shrugs, carefree. “When my sisters come, it’ll finish quicker than you realise!”

Kai can only concede.

Just like the New Year on January 1st, people also stay up and greet the Lunar New Year. 

When the clock strikes midnight, Kai turns to Khánh and both of them simultaneously shout:

“Happy New Year!”

“Chúc mừng năm mới!”

Then, very smoothly, Khánh pulls out a red envelope—a lì xì.

“Here you go, Kai!”

Kai makes a face. “But Khánh...I’m not a child. I’m the same age as you!”

“You’re still a child if you’re not married!” Khánh argues back. “Take it, take it!”

“No, but we’re friends…”

Khánh leans over Kai and stuffs it into Kai’s pocket. “There we go.”

Kai sighs, but his lips smile. “Okay, thank you. I wish you happiness and good fortune.” With that, he pulls out another red envelope. “This is for you.”

Khánh’s eyes widen. “What? No, I don’t accept it!”

Kai smirks. “But you’re still a child if you’re not married,” he argues. “You have to accept it!”

“Nooooo!”

Kai grabs Khánh in a hug before they can escape and slips it into Khánh’s own pocket.

Kai laughs. “Look, don’t we both have good luck and good fortune now?”

Khánh sighs. “You know me too well,” they pout.

*

In the morning, they have a hearty breakfast before dressing in a new set of matching clothes accented with bright red—another thing Khánh insisted. The two of them head out to visit the nearest temple.

Kai’s eyes grow wide at how busy it is, all the sounds of people talking—Vietnamese words that he vaguely catches, but also more accents then he’s used to—as well as the strong scent of incense. The trees are laden with pink and yellow flowers, and red lanterns and banners hang in multiple places. There were also many women and very young children dressed in colourful áo dài. Kai sticks very close to Khánh, afraid to get lost in the crowd.

To enter the temple, they take their shoes off. Kai’s eyes widen when Khánh pulls them towards the altar.

“Just copy what everyone else does,” they whisper. “It’s for good luck in the coming year!”

Kai hurriedly nods. After bowing a couple of times alongside Khánh, they get to light some incense and stick it in the giant pot for visitors.

Kai breathes a secret sigh of relief when they exit and successfully put on their shoes again.

“So, what next?” Kai asks.

Khánh gives them a secretive look. “Finding out our fortunes for the year, of course!”

On a cluster of trees there are both yellow flowers—fake, Kai realises when they come closer—as well as many red envelopes. It’s a dollar donation to pick one. After Khánh picks one, Kai grins and picks the highest one he can reach.

Inside...there is a thin sheet of paper with tiny complicated Vietnamese text, and a fake ancient-style coin with a red string.

Kai grimaces. For all that he’s learning Vietnamese, this is too much! There are no food words in it at all! And Kai’s not the only one—he sees a cluster of young people asking the monk on duty about their own fortunes.

“Khánh...can you read it for me? Well, when we get home.”

Khánh finishes reading their own fortune first, a complicated expression on their face. “Okay, when we get home. Do you want to look around a bit more? It’s almost 12, there should be some firecrackers.”

“Okay,” Kai readily agrees.

While wandering around, they come across the corner of the temple selling food. They buy some boxes of the vegetarian food, and they make it to the front of the temple just in time for the firecrackers to go off and the lion dancers to jump in.

Khánh’s eyes shine as the dancers jump around, reach up high, in the background of the heavy beat and loud music.

“Look at them! They’re so good!” Khánh turns to Kai and grins. “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” Kai agrees. _I like you_.

As the dance ends, the crowd dissipates a little, and Kai and Khánh return home.

Kai collapses on the sofa in relief. “Ahh, my ears are still ringing.”

Khánh grins. “Loud sounds are important to ward off evil spirits and such. Lunch?”

“Yes please!”

From the temple, they have a selection of salads and a vegetarian bánh canh—thick, chewy tapioca noodles in a savoury yet slightly sweet soup.

“So...what did your fortune say?” Kai questions once they’ve finished eating.

Khánh has a shifty expression. “ _Cough!_ Well, it’s not bad. My relationships will be good this year!”

Kai’s heart skips a beat. “Y-yeah?” _Well...no, don’t think about that. Khánh’s sisters are coming, it_ must _be that kind of good relationship._

Kai takes out his own fortune and hands it to Khánh to read.

“...It says...cherish your friends and loved ones, and good fortune will come your way. Keep a positive attitude and be kind when you need to be kind, and stern when you need to be stern...There are more details on it.”

Kai looks at the dense text and his lips quirk up. The fortune seems very thorough. “No, you don’t need to. It sounds like I’m going to have a good year. Well, I’m not surprised since I started it off with you. It’s a big difference from last year.” He pats Khánh’s arm. “I think you’re my lucky charm.”

The more he thinks about it, the more it sounds correct. “Everything changed for the better when I met you...thank you, Khánh.”

Khánh stuffs the fortune back in Kai’s hands. “No thank you needed! Anyway, I need to check if we have enough food for when my sisters come…”

Kai is left standing, a little confused about Khánh’s sudden actions. But then again...Khánh’s sisters are scary...Kai needs to go prepare too!

*

In the afternoon, Khánh’s sisters come. Beforehand, Kai hurries to make sure everything is arranged neatly, and what should be put away is put away. He also fixes his hair, pats down his clothes, and inspects his outfit to make sure it hasn’t gotten dirty suddenly. The doorbell rings and Kai’s heart jumps.

_Omg...they’re here...what if...got to act calm!_

Nonetheless, he stays frozen in the bathroom.

“Uyên! Phượng! You’re here! Come in, come in!!”

“Our little em seems very happy. Where is Kai?”

“Kai’s just coming—”

Kai leaves the bathroom. “I’m here! Hello, good afternoon, welcome.”

Uyên and Phượng both smile.

Kai shivers.

“Come sit down,” Khánh urges.

“This is for you,” Uyên says, handing over a large box of fruit to Khánh.

“Ah!” Kai jumps forward. “Khánh, let me carry that for you!”

Khánh pouts. “Why did you bring so much?”

Phượng rubs Khánh’s hair. “Because we luuvvvv you.”

Khánh reddens.

When Kai takes the box of fruit, the sisters now take the opportunity to hug Khánh and pick them up.

Kai’s lip curls up at their antics. He carries the box into the kitchen. From what he can see, it’s basically a fruit arrangement of pomelo, papaya, pineapple, sugar apples, starfruit, mangoes, and tangerines. He carries back some of the snacks like the mứt dừa, bánh bò, and the jug of coconut juice Khánh prepared earlier.

“Can I pour you a drink?” Kai asks as he sets down the plates of candied coconut ribbons and colorful little steamed rice cakes on the living room coffee table. “We also have tea if you want.”

Uyên and Phượng glance at each other.

“Thank you, Kai,” Uyên says with a friendly smile.

“Come here,” Phượng says, patting the cushion beside her.

Kai gulps and takes the proffered seat next to Phượng. 

“Now, as someone of the older generation, it’s my duty to give you this.” She takes out two red lì xì and stuffs one into Kai’s hands, and the other in Khánh’s. “You have to accept this, understood?”

“...But…” Kai holds the lì xì in both hands. “...You’re not from the older generation.”

“I’m still older than you!” Phượng sniffs. She turns to Khánh and taps the red envelope against their knee, smirking. “Go on now, you know what you have to do. Give me your best new years wishes and you’ll get the money.”

Khánh’s eyes curve in joy. “Chúc chị được uống nhiều trà sữa và sống ngàn năm hạnh phúc.”

Beside them, Uyên nearly snorts coconut juice out her nose. Phượng has a severe expression on her face, but her lips are twitching. “Lots of bubble tea and a thousand years of happiness? I’ll take it.”

“I wish you good luck and good fortune!” Kai squeaks when her attention turns to him.

Phượng’s lips curve faintly. “Very good. I wish you both good luck and happiness for the coming year as well.” She hands over the envelopes, which Khánh and Kai dutifully tuck away.

Kai starts, “Let me get—”

“You’re _not_ getting up,” Phượng says, clearly seeing through Kai’s ploy to find some red lì xì to give to her. “We’re really curious about you, Kai. It’s not every day that our little sibling invites a person in to live in their house…”

“This is the first time _we’re_ here!” Uyên adds.

“Uyên, Phượng…” Khánh grumbles.

Kai rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Maybe I was too shameless to accept...if you two had randomly walked by, I’m sure Khánh would have invited you in…”

“Hmmmm,” Phượng says, clearly unconvinced. “Can you cook? I hope you don’t make Khánh do all the house chores!”

“I’ve been learning to cook with Khánh… and I don’t let Khánh do all the house chores!” Kai quickly replies.

“Kai has been helping me make improvements to the house!” Khánh defends. “You should have seen the back garden before.”

“Hmmmm,” Phượng says. “You’re not here to steal Khánh’s money, are you? Khánh, does Kai let you go out?”

“More like Khánh won’t let me pay!” Kai says.

“Of course he lets me out!” Khánh adds.

“Hmmmm...”

“How about your job, Kai?” Uyên asks. Despite her sweet smile, Kai feels a shiver run up his spine.

“I mostly do online tutoring and other freelancing,” Kai admits. “I’ve saved up money before, too—”

“—Kai was _overworking_ himself before!” Khánh cuts in.

“I was not!” Kai denies.

“You don’t need to work so hard…”

“But I want to help you,” Kai grumbles. It’s a familiar exchange, and both of them grin sheepishly.

Uyên and Phượng glance at each other again.

“You have a good attitude,” Phượng says. “Can you pass me those mứt dừa?”

Kai gladly passes her the candied coconut, breathing a sigh of relief. He’s passed the interrogation! 

(Maybe?)

*

They spend the rest of the day eating and chatting. Khánh unwraps one of the bánh chưng, slices it up, and fries it as part of dinner. Kai has already tasted the non-fried version at breakfast that morning, with its chewy outside and mouth-melting pork and mung bean filling. But when it’s _fried_ , the outside becomes super crispy which makes for a very good contrasting texture compared to the soft insides and increases the decadence by 100.

After dinner, Phượng whips out a plastic mat with six different images in circles, a fish, a prawn, a crab, a rooster, a gourd, and a deer. She insists that everyone play bầu cua tôm cá, a Vietnamese gambling game. After a couple of practice rounds, she starts pulling out the big bets: Khánh’s food, in particular the colorful little bánh bò.

Kai tries his best but ultimately can only flop in defeat next to Khánh as Phượng wins everything. The tower of steamed rice cakes she’s stacked next to her glisten innocently.

“Don’t be sad,” Khánh reassures him. “If you really like bánh bò, I can make more just for you!”

Phượng’s eyes light up. “How about...you can bet some _IOU’s_ for food in the future!”

Uyên restrains Phượng. “Don’t be so evil to Khánh!”

Phượng sighs. “ _Fiiiiiine_.”

They move to (non-gambling) card games, and soon it gets late and Phượng announces that they need to leave, and Khánh and Kai should get to bed soon.

“Before you leave, don’t forget your winnings!” Khánh says, packing up all the food that Phượng won from the game.

Uyên laughs. “Thanks for reminding us.”

“Drive safely,” Kai says, feeling a little awkward as the sisters hug Khánh.

“Of course.” Phượng narrows her eyes at Kai, and then pulls him into a sudden hug. Her head dips and she whispers, “Now, don’t forget to look after Khánh, understood? If we come back and we see Khánh frown... _you_ know.”

Kai shivers at her voice in his ear. He quickly nods. “Yes! I understand.”

Phượng pulls back and stops squeezing him to death. “Very good,” she smiles. “Now, call me chị, okay?”

“Yes, chị,” Kai says obediently.

Then, just as Kai is breathing again, Uyên takes Phượng’s place to give him a rib-crushing hug. She grips his shoulders and smiles widely. “Thank you for making Khánh happy, I hope it continues. And oh, I think you have a good face.”

Despite her smile, Kai immediately gets the message. “Yes, ma’am.”

Uyên’s smile broadens, though it definitely still feels scary. “Good.”

After a few more exchanges to make sure Uyên and Phượng haven’t forgotten anything, the two of them leave. Khánh sees them out onto the porch.

Kai immediately slumps. _Ah!! I survived!_ His nerves finally get to relax.

Several minutes later Khánh enters the house again. “I hope you didn’t feel too awkward...” 

Kai immediately shakes his head. “No, I liked them. The house was very lively, and I’m glad _you’re_ happy.”

Khánh inexplicably reddens. “Oh, okay.”

“By the way, Phượng and Uyên both asked me to call them chị...I thought it was one of their nicknames, but that can’t be it since both said the same thing...”

Khánh freezes. “What, they asked you—?!”

_to be continued in the next chapter!_

  
  
Art drawn by toutcequonveut  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> Khanh: Come on, say it for my sisters! You said it so well earlier!
> 
> Kai: Ch-chúc mừng năm mới! *sweating buckets*
> 
> Phượng and Uyên: Awww thanks little brother! Happy New Year to you too~ *threatening smiles*
> 
> Kai: _WhyAmISoNervous.jpg_
> 
> *
> 
> Note: "Em" = younger sibling or someone young enough to be your younger sibling in general


	26. TẾT - LUNAR NEW YEAR (Part 2)

_A little earlier…_

Khánh easily recognizes that they are being frogmarched out of their own house by their older sisters. When the front door snaps shut, the hands on Khánh’s shoulders tighten as Uyên and Phượng lean in.

“Soooo…” Phượng begins.

“You and your boyfriend are so cute!” Uyên whisper-squeals.

“He’d better be making you happy,” Phượng growls. “Only the best boyfriend is allowed to date my littlest sibling!” She softens a little and adds, “But he does seem to have a good heart.”

“What? Who? Kai?” Khánh feels like they’re hyperventilating. “We’re not dating!”

Phượng gives them an annoyed glance. “What do you mean you’re not dating? Is this one of those things young people do these days where they don’t call it dating anymore?”

“Phượng, you’re not _that_ old.”

She replies with a dry look. “Khánh, I don’t know what a Tiktok is and at this point I’m afraid to ask. Yes, I’m probably an old person.”

 _“Anyway_ , getting back to the more _important_ topic,” Uyên interrupts. “Whatever word you’re using for it, _we_ would most certainly call dating. Have you seen this place? You totally live together!”

“Yes, as _roommates!”_

Uyên and Phượng look at each other in obvious exasperation, and then—

“You hold hands!”

“And cuddle!”

“You have matching outfits and scarves!”

“He sleeps in your bedroom! I saw the other bedroom, there’s no way he’s staying in there—”

Khánh feels that they are currently turning into a tomato, with how red their face must be. “Those are all just platonic things!”

“Khánh.” Uyên leans down a little bit, the better to look at them in the eyes. “Those are all things people do when they date. Are you saying you don’t _want_ to be dating him?”

“I… we can’t be dating,” Khánh says faintly. “If we were dating, that would mean he liked me _back_.”

Uyên and Phượng share one of those communicative glances again. 

Uyên picks up Khánh’s hand and pats it comfortingly. “Have you asked him if he likes you?”

“No, I… it’s too big. Too scary. What if saying something ruins everything?”

Phượng snorts. “Sorry, sorry,” she says, waving her hand. “It’s just that, Khánh. He looks at you like you’re his whole world. Of course he likes you.”

“...You think so?” Khánh hates how pathetic they sound, but they’re willing to beg if it involves Kai.

In answer, Phượng ruffles their hair and smiles ruefully. “Good night, Khánh. Hope this new year is a good one for you.”

Uyên picks up Khánh from behind and swings them a little. “Good night! Thanks for hosting us. Chúc mừng năm mới!”

“Happy new year to you too, but you still didn’t answer my question—wait, you can’t just _leave_ like that!”

“Some things are meant to be figured out and solved by yourself! Grow a spine and take the leap!” Phượng calls back, already clambering into the car.

“Call us if you need us!” Uyên adds.

Khánh wanders back into the house in a stupor. They immediately see Kai standing by the kitchen counter just ahead. “I hope you didn’t feel too awkward...” 

Kai shakes his head. “No, I liked them. The house was very lively, and I’m glad _you’re_ happy.”

Khánh blushes, thinking of the confrontation just a few minutes ago. “Oh, okay.”

“By the way, Phượng and Uyên both asked me to call them chị… I thought it was one of their nicknames, but that can’t be it since both said the same thing...”

Khánh freezes. “What, they asked you—?!” Their brain abruptly stops working, considering the possibilities. It doesn’t _have_ to mean anything, that word is also used for unrelated older females as a show of respect… but Khánh also knows their older sisters very well. This is not an obligation, but a gift.

“Does it mean something bad?” Kai asks, panicked. “Were they pranking me? Did I flunk the test because I didn’t catch the prank?!”

“What test are you talking about—no! Chị just means older sister,” Khánh responds. “It’s a word for any woman who’s about the right age to be your older sister, so it’s not just for family.” _Though that’s not what Uyên and Phượng intended._

“Awww that’s kind of them.” Kai’s shoulders finally relax a bit. “It’s nice to see the good relationship you have with your sisters. Makes me wish I had siblings.”

Khánh’s brain kicks into overdrive. Their earlier conversation with said sisters, and now this current topic with Kai… “Would you mind if they were your older sisters? Or were they too much?” 

“No, I wouldn’t mind at all. They’re very caring, just like you.” Kai ducks his head as he says this, his hand rubbing at his freshly-shaved undercut.

The statement and the motion cause Khánh’s overheating brain to combust even more. That sentence really does seem to fit with Phượng’s assertion that Kai likes them. Their mouth continues speaking without their realizing. “How about this house? Would you mind if it were your house as well?

“I—I mean, I guess I do live here as well…”

Khánh takes a step closer, feeling courage from an unknown source beginning to enter their blood. “And the bed? Do you think of it as partially yours? I think of it as yours, you know. It's something I bought for _us_.”

Kai blushes furiously. “It… it is, isn’t it?” Gulping, he asks, “Why are you asking me all this?”

Khánh picks up Kai’s hand, holding it in front of their heart. They rub their hands carefully over his fingers, not answering as their nervousness attempts to choke the words bubbling in their throat into silence. When their gaze sweeps up, though, it’s Kai in front of them. Kai, who went out of his way to spend time with Khánh for months and enjoys sharing meals with them even when he was overworking himself. The same Kai who they’ve spent every waking moment with for just as many months. Their feelings about Kai cannot be hidden any longer! 

“Kai… I like the idea of having an _us._ I like the idea of you thinking of me as yours. I… I like _you_ , Kai.”

Before them, Kai’s face completely freezes. “I… I…”

A distant part of Khánh’s brain thinks, _Kai.exe has stopped working_. The rest of their body is busy filling with ice water. Their fingers loosen their grip on Kai’s hand, preparing to drop it. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed, ah, what was I thinking, I’m being too forward—”

Kai’s other hand whips out and clasps Khánh’s hand tight over his own. “ _No!_ No, you weren’t being too forward at all!” He takes a deep breath, looks away, then determinedly looks back into Khánh’s face. “I want all that too. I want you to think of me as yours as well, to think of us as an _us._ I… I like you too, Khánh.”

Khánh peers into Kai’s face with cautious hope. “You do?”

Kai nods with conviction, stepping closer so their hands are pressed between their chests “Of course I do. Anyone would be lucky to be your partner. You’re so kind, so gentle, and the way your mind works makes me want to spend all my time around you just so I can experience more of it. I love how creative and sneaky you are as well. Most of all, you are the warmest person I’ve ever known, here—” he gestures to Khanh’s heart “—and I’d be a fool not to want to be with you.”

Now Khánh is the one who feels that Khánh.exe has stopped working. _Is it a virus?_ They look down, face red. “I… I don’t know what to say. I’m not—I didn’t think I’d ever have this,” they mumble.

Kai frowns. “You didn’t think I liked you? I sleep in your bed! We spend every hour of every day together!”

Khánh retorts, “Well yes, but—well, anyway. Just look at you! You’re also kind, and courteous, and you have so much integrity. I know I can always rely on you, either for help or just to be there for me. And also you’re very handsome. How could I possibly think there was a chance you’d like me too?”

“…you think I’m handsome?”

Khánh looks up and sees a beautiful, beautiful smile on Kai’s face. “Of course you are! You’re Kai,” they answer. Then they look away with a slight cough. “Ah, anyway, it seems we’ve both been rather oblivious… are we dating?”

Kai leans down so his forehead taps against Khanh’s slightly, his lips beaming. “Yeah, we’re dating.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Bonus scene:**
> 
> The next day, Khanh calls Uyên and Phượng to tell them that they’re now dating Kai.
> 
> “What do you mean NOW dating, you were ALREADY dating!!!”
> 
> *
> 
> One more chapter for the main story, though there's still a bit more bonus content to come ;D!!
> 
> I'm probably going to add some art at some point for this chapter + some bonus sketches and such later, but life is rolling very quickly for me ToT


	27. Cơm sườn nướng - Grilled pork chops

For their first (first!) date, they decide to go to a restaurant, and Khánh won’t let Kai choose. They set it for Friday evening, and beforehand, both of them have work to do.

Kai quickly finishes off the last of his work so that he can get ready early. Quickly closing everything, he sneaks into the bedroom to pick out his clothes.

Except, lo and behold, he bumps into Khánh also sneaking into the bedroom to pick clothes…

...because their clothes are both stored in the same bedroom.

 _Cough_. “You finished early?” Kai asks.

Khánh blushes. “Yeah. When I mentioned I had a date, my viewers let me off early…”

At least their clothes are stored in two different parts of the wardrobe. Kai picks out a couple of outfits and then quickly heads into the bathroom to change.

Picking multiple outfits was the right choice, because Kai’s not 100% satisfied and ends up mixing and matching the outfits. Nice shirt, a relaxed blazer, nice trousers, and a skinny, fashionable tie.

Looking at himself in the mirror, Kai’s lips curl up. His hair has grown out to its usual length again, and the fit of the clothes is good.

He gathers up the pile of discarded clothing and pokes his head out of the bathroom. The bedroom door is open, meaning that Khánh must be done.

He puts the discarded clothes back into the wardrobe, turns around—and bumps into Khánh.

Unlike himself, Khánh is dressed much more casually.

Feeling embarrassed, Kai quickly tugs off his tie. “Sorry, let me put this away quickly!”

Khanh giggles. “You don’t _have_ to do that!”

“I’ve already done it,” Kai says with the most serious face he can muster. He coughs. “Since we’re both ready, shall I drive to the restaurant even though it’s a little early?”

A shy, somewhat anticipatory smile grows on Khánh’s face. “Yeah. Just in case traffic is bad, right?”

Traffic _is_ a little bad in the evening, and Kai awkwardly puts on music, because he feels like...shouldn’t they chat _during_ the date itself? If he talks now, will he run out of conversation during dinner? _Ah, dating is hard…_

The place Khánh has chosen is a nice steakhouse. While it is certainly not a suit-and-tie location, the steakhouse has a sense of poise. The decor is an earthy dark wood, with deep colours, stylish lighting, and low jazz music.

“So, how do you like it?” Khánh asks. “According to the internet, this place has good reviews, and it’s not so loud that you can’t hear when speaking.”

Kai nods. “It really feels...date-like,” he says, feeling his cheeks heat up as he notices all the couples with their steaks and fancy red wine and the flowers on the tables.

Under Khánh’s lead, the waiter takes them to their table and hands them two menus.

Khánh promptly looks at theirs, eyes scanning quickly. “So reviews say these are the most popular dishes,” they say, pointing at various items on Kai’s menu.

Kai’s head spins with all the options. “How about...we get two or three things to share?”

Khánh’s eyes brighten. “Yes!”

“Um, you choose, I trust your food choices!”

“...So much pressure on me, Kai,” Khánh whines woefully.

“!!!” Kai immediately sits up. “No, if it’s too much, then I can help—” He stops when he notices Khánh’s smiling eyes. At that, Kai smiles helplessly. “I’ll listen to you, Khánh. Call the waiter.”

Khánh ends up ordering two of the popular mains, along with an assortment of sides. The waiter brings them two bottles of soft drink first and departs.

“Hm. It’s weird waiting for someone else to cook,” Khánh says.

Kai looks around at how all the other couples are acting. He feels very perplexed. “Does this really count as our first date? We were going on outings and such all the time before now.”

Khánh reddens. “Um, let’s just agree to count this as our first date anyway. Uyên and Phượng don’t need more reasons to be smug.”

“...You told them?” Kai sweats nervously.

“It’s fine!” Khánh hurries to say. “They told you to call them chị…”

Now that Kai thinks about it, he really needs to improve his (bravery) relationship with Khánh’s sisters, right? “We should have them over for dinner more often.”

Khánh nods. “Okay!”

They end up talking about what to build next in their joint Minecraft world. Not long after, the waiter arrives with their dishes: the house steak, the house spare ribs, and their selection of sides: salad and sweet potato chips and sauces.

Khánh readily splits the steak in half for each of them, putting their own portion on a spare plate and moving the original plate to Kai’s side.

It’s a shame that the table isn’t small enough for them to share the same plate…

The steak is cooked medium-rare, with a caramelised exterior. Kai takes a bite, and the beef is rich and soft. But the sauce...is it not spicy enough? Or maybe missing some fish sauce?

“What’s wrong?” Khánh asks.

Kai leans in after making sure there’s no waiter around them. “I like your cooking better,” he confesses in a whisper.

Khánh blushes. “I can make the same—well, very similar—dish at home,” they say shyly.

“Would you use fish sauce when you make steaks?”

Khánh winks at him. “Actually, I just serve the steak inside a bottle of fish sauce. You pour the bottle into a cup and _voila!_ Steak-flavored fish sauce.”

Kai laughs. “What do you think their sauce is made out of?”

“Hmm!” Khánh tastes it and talks with a very faux-seriousness about the methods of making gravy and cooking steaks, from the ingredients, to the kind of charcoal they grilled it over.

Eventually the evening passes and all the food is finished, even though the salad is very sad compared to Vietnamese salads.

“We can go out for bubble tea for dessert!” Khánh beams after they call for the bill.

Kai agrees readily. “It will be good to walk around a bit after eating so much meat.”

The waiter comes and Kai takes out his wallet, but before he can react, Khánh slaps down their card.

“Khánh… let’s split the bill. We can split the bill, yes?”

The waiter nods “Yes, that’s possible—”

“No, please take it all from my card,” Khánh says. They lift the bill and card and hand it directly to the waiter. “Here you go!”

The waiter nods and does so, leaving Kai to sheepishly put his wallet away. _Damn it! Next time, I’ll be faster!_

They head out to get bubble tea from a cute little dessert shop—Khánh gets mango smoothie with jelly and Kai gets a honeydew milk tea—and frustratingly, while Kai is accepting his drink, Khánh pays for them both _again!_

“Khaaaaanh,” Kai fusses, feeling helpless. He weakly shakes Khánh’s shoulder to show his displeasure then turns to the side and sips his bubble tea to sweeten things up.

“My treat,” Khánh replies happily as they head out of the shop.

Kai makes a little note in his heart: _send Khánh money next time they livestream!_ But to make Khánh not suspicious, Kai continues, “I wish you would let me split the bill, I don’t want to impose on you like this.”

“No, it’s _my pleasure_ to pay for you,” Khánh insists. Their eyes shine, lights outlining their soft face.

At this time, many other people are out and about. The streets are brightly lit in the night, with friendship groups, families, and couples hanging about.

“But I want the pleasure…” Kai says. He moves closer to Khánh, bumping their arms together.

“We’ll see if you’re fast enough next time,” Khánh says mischievously.

Kai makes another note in his heart. _Next time, be faster! Even better, call the restaurant ahead of time and pre-pay for the meal!_

But then Khánh takes his hand and curls their fingers together, swinging their arms back and forth, and _cough cough_ , Kai’s hard pressed to think of anything else besides the place where their hands and fingers touch…

*

Both of them wake up a little late the next day.

“Hmm, we still have leftovers, right?” Kai says, watching the sunlight streaming through the window dance over Khánh’s hair. “Nothing complicated for breakfast.”

Khánh shimmies out of bed first. “Right! Ah, I’m going to the bathroom first.”

“Okay.”

Kai remembers what happened last night, and buries his face in his pillow for a moment. _Can’t! Believe! That! Happened!_

But his lips curve up nonetheless.

*

After the both of them spend the rest of the morning being awkward and not quite looking at each other, Khánh goes to livestream and Kai remembers to make “Mr. Turtle” send Khánh a lot of donations.

In the little camera, Khánh’s lips twitch. “Thank you, Mr. Turtle, for the gift.”

The comments scroll, and Kai blushes when he finally reads them.

[SO how was the date???!!]

[How did it go???!!]

[What did you eat? Was it seafood? Food pictures!]

Khánh clears their throat. “Yes, the date went fine. No more questions about them! We’re making serious food sculptures here!”

[Hhahahaha]

[;P Must have gone very fine then.]

Kai sends another donation with the comment [Congratulations!]. The other watchers laugh, with many comments of [Hahahaha] [Yes, sending host money in congratulations!]. A wave of smaller gifts from other subscribers follow.

He ‘pays’ for it when Khánh finishes live-streaming and stomps over to where Kai is working.

“Kai, how could you??” Khánh’s lips are turned down, looking sad and miserable.

Kai feels an arrow in his chest. “But...congratulations on your date last night?” he tries.

“I’m going to be paying for the groceries for the next two weeks!” Khánh proclaims.

Kai stares at them, speechless for a long moment. His lips twitch in amusement, but he quickly makes an expression of defeat. “Yes, Khánh. I’ll help you with dinner…”

“You’ll help me anyway.”

Kai smiles happily. “Yeah, I will. Give me a minute to finish this.”

A minute later, Kai closes his laptop and heads into the kitchen. Tonight, they’re having cơm sườn nướng. The extremely fragrant lemongrass pork chops that make up the main portion of the meal have been marinating all day. Khánh takes them out of the fridge, along with a pile of other ingredients, while Kai sets the rice cooking in the rice cooker.

It feels very easy to move around the kitchen with Khánh. Kai can’t help but smile a little every time they accidentally touch each other.

“I’m not _really_ mad at you,” Khánh says.

“I know,” Kai replies. He clears his throat, ears getting pre-emptively hot as he remembers the events after yesterday’s date. “Why don’t we pay with our bodies instead of with money?”

Khánh flushes bright red. “Kai!” they slap him on the arm. Still, their hand trails down and squeezes Kai’s tightly, letting him know that they’re not actually angry.

Kai chuckles. “Okay, okay. Do you want me to set up the grill outside?”

“Yes, it’s not too cold right now, the charcoal grill will impart an enhanced flavour!”

When the grill is set up on the back veranda and the pork chops are cooking, Kai very much agrees. The smell of the cooking meat is _phenomenal_ , and for a moment, he feels sorry for all the neighbours who have to smell this but not taste it.

The grilled pork chops are served with rice, sliced cucumber, tomatoes, salad greens, crispy fried eggs, scallion oil, and of course, the dipping sauce nước chấm, which they still have left over from the morning.

Kai packs up the grill while Khánh sets the table, serving them both a cup of chrysanthemum tea.

The grilled pork is crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, and smells mouthwateringly of unami and lemongrass and ginger and fish sauce and that grilled charcoal flavour. The soft rice, the fresh vegetables, the fried egg: each has a different texture and flavour, enhancing and complementing each other.

It’s almost like how Khánh complements Kai.

Kai nudges Khánh's feet under the table.

Khánh’s face twitches, his lips trying hard not to smile. “Eh, what was that?”

“I was just thinking...I’m glad I met you. I was just... _existing_ before. But with you, every single day is a joy to live through.”

Khánh’s cheeks redden. “Yes, ah, that’s right, um, you too…”

The quiet extends, and Kai shyly smiles. “Anyway...I was thinking that we should build a separate Vietnamese cuisine section in our Minecraft world…”

In the dark night, warmth and delicious scents spill from Khanh and Kai’s home, marking the start—or rather, the continuation—of their meal-dates together.

  
Art drawn by toutcequonveut  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnd that's a wrap! No bonus scene this chapter because instead you get bonus CHAPTERS!! There's two written right now, but if I think of something after I mark this as complete I reserve the right to add chapters XD
> 
> [I made a drawing of a scene from Chapter 19 here!](https://cequonveut.tumblr.com/post/641966328588140544/scene-from-chapter-19-of-eat-a-mango-gift-a)


	28. BONUS 1: Cơm trứng - Rice and eggs

It’s quiet in the car as Phượng drives Uyên back to her place. Both of them are contemplating the evening they’ve just had, she knows, and the realization that their youngest sibling is not so young anymore.

Eventually, Uyên speaks up. "They had a nice house, didn't they?"

Phượng snorts because—"It was a decent house, but aren't you dying to talk more about the person they're sharing that house with? Go on, go on."

"I mean, the house _was_ the other reason why we came over."

“Yes, yes, but more importantly, what about the _person! Their_ person!”

Uyên giggles. “They are cute, aren’t they?” Her smile fades. “It’s so weird.”

Phượng hums in agreement. “I can’t believe they grew up so much and we weren’t around.”

“I’m _mad_ at myself. Why didn’t we push earlier? Why weren’t we there for them?”

“If we’d pushed more, they would have pushed us away more. You remember their texts, don’t you? Or rather, lack of response whenever we messaged.”

“I know, but…” Uyên chews at her lip worriedly. Phượng smacks her shoulder without taking her eyes off the road, and Uyên automatically stops chewing. “It’s annoying that we missed hanging out with them, going house-hunting with them, helping them move in, meeting Kai earlier… all because our parents and family had to be dumb!”

“I know.” Phượng makes a left turn, away from the direction of their parents’ house. “I’m assuming you want to stay at my place tonight, by the way.”

“Like I feel like seeing our parents after just talking about how they drove away Khánh!”

“That’s what I thought.”

The conversation turns to other things after that, like how good of a cook their littlest sibling is now. Uyên and Phượng had been surprised to learn that Khánh had made the famously tedious bánh chưng themselves. They had then been even more shocked when Kai began listing all the different Vietnamese foods Khánh had made from scratch. 

“I never knew they were even interested in cooking,” Phượng muses.

“If I had to guess, it may have been a kind of escapism thing. Like, something to fill the void after they felt like their family abandoned them.” The dissatisfied look on Uyên’s face clearly broadcasts her continued discontent at having been included in the family that abandoned Khánh. Phượng decides not to push; they’ve already discussed that enough for tonight.

“I’m just glad that Ông Chú Sáu supported them financially. It’s good that they didn’t have to worry about money with everything else going on.”

“Yeah and speaking of which, how come I only found out _tonight_ that we had a gay great-uncle?”

“You just didn’t pay enough attention to the gossip during all those family parties when we were young,” Phượng snickers.

“It’s not my fault I didn’t know the Vietnamese word for gay!” 

Phượng makes the final turn into her complex and parks the car. The two sisters get out of the car and unload the mountain of food Khánh sent them home with. Once everything is put away, the two of them stand in the middle of Phượng’s spotless kitchen.

“This looks a lot… bigger than I remember,” Uyên ventures. 

“Oh shut it, you know it’s only this clean for Tết!” Phượng accentuates her statement by tossing her keys onto the kitchen table, which is their usual resting place.

A mischievous smirk plays on Uyên’s lips. “Why don’t we inaugurate it then? For the new year?”

“What are you thinking?” 

“I’m no cook like our little sibling is, but there’s one thing I know I can’t mess up… eggs and rice!”

“You can’t seriously still be hungry.” Phượng rolls her eyes, but her stomach takes that moment to let out an inopportune grumble. “Uh…”

The two of them look at each other and then burst out laughing.

Eventually, after the laughter fades, Phượng concedes. “Alright, alright, let’s have a midnight snack. What are holidays for if not for feasting?” She mentally ignores the voice in her head that says her body will not thank her for this tomorrow; she’s not exactly in her 20s anymore. 

Uyên grins. “Get ready for a masterclass in cooking from yours truly!”

What actually proceeds is a hilarious procession of what Phượng is fairly sure the kids these days call “fails”. First, Uyên forgets that there’s no rice in the rice cooker so has to make a fresh batch. Then, _after_ the rice is done, she realizes the rice is going to be overly wet due to not using leftover rice. At this point, though, she’s committed to her goal of eggs and rice. She turns the heat on the stove to medium, cracks the egg directly into the oiled pan, then scrambles it with chopsticks. She adds several dots of Maggi seasoning, then dumps in two bowls of rice. 

Phượng takes a bite. It’s definitely not restaurant grade or anything, but… “It tastes just like our mom’s.”

“I know, right! Doesn’t it bring back memories? _And_ , if I can cook simple meals like her, you can provide family gossip like her, and Khánh can cook complicated meals like her, they won’t need to miss her at all for as long as the family keeps acting like this!” 

Phượng casts her gaze downwards, visions of her and Uyên chasing after toddler Khánh, of Khánh’s depressed mood throughout their teenage years, of worrying over them but being unable to do anything from afar, of that awful day years ago when they stormed out the door past her and Uyên on the stairs and never came back.

She pictures their expression of shocked delight in the bubble tea shop, the new changes to their face and figure, the disappearance of the premature worry lines and dark circles from their eyes, the bright look of pure joy when they catch sight of Kai, their happy smile when they picked up both sisters sequentially.

Phượng wonders idly why her bowl of rice and eggs tastes bittersweet. “Yeah… we can be there for them. We _will_ be there for them, no matter what.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ông Chú Sáu = “Great Uncle Six”. Specifically, it refers to the uncle that is the younger brother of your grandmother and in the sixth (or fifth*) position in the family. Vietnamese has very specific family words to distinguish exactly how someone is related to someone else...sometimes. Other times, it’s vaguer than English lol.
> 
> *Something I’ve never been certain of: in my own family, our family “number” starts with my oldest sibling at 2, not 1. My parents said this is because the parents (together) are in the number 1 position in the family. I have no idea if this carries over to the nicknames for uncles/aunts that are numbered.
> 
> bafflinghaze: From what I hear, there can be two reasons for numbering to start from 2: (1) a superstitious thing, so that spirits/ghosts don’t find your first child; (2) the parents are the number one “brother” and “sister” and so the children start from number 2. Take these with a grain of salt lol.


	29. BONUS 2: At a dessert shop called matcha & milk...

“Let’s go out today.”

“Hmmm?” Khánh murmurs, not looking up from where they are chopping up fruit for breakfast.

A pair of arms slips around their waist, and then a pair of very beloved lips press into a kiss on the part where Khánh’s neck meets their shoulder. "I said, let's go out today. I'd like to take you on a date."

Khánh's lips curve up easily. "Okay. What makes you think you'll get to the register before I do this time?"

Kai turns them around and bends down to kiss them properly. "I suppose you'll just have to keep going on dates with me to see when I succeed."

*

They decide on visiting a dessert shop Kai heard about from his coworker. Apparently the kids in tutoring won't stop raving about how good the cakes and ice cream are or about all the varieties of flavors and options. Given its popularity among schoolchildren, Kai and Khánh decide to go in the early afternoon during school hours when it's least likely to be crowded.

The shop has a cute exterior, and Khánh can smell the heavenly scent of baked goods even as they approach _matcha & milk_. The chalkboard sign outside declares that today's special is a taiyaki filled with a surprise ice cream flavor. Khánh is immediately intrigued—the Japanese fish-shaped dessert pancakes are a childhood favorite of theirs.

The bell above the door jingles merrily as they enter. Khánh quickly surveys the interior and is pleased to see that they'd been right to suggest coming at this time. There are only three other people in the shop in addition to the person working behind the counter. Khánh spots strawberry cufflinks inserted where collar buttons would normally be as well as tiny green cake cufflinks where cufflinks should actually be and immediately decides they like this shop.

"Welcome!" the person greets. "My name is Robin, how may I help you?"

Khánh is an expert at ordering at dessert shops thanks to Phượng's influence and knows exactly what to do. "What do you recommend?"

"Well, we have a lot of options. There's bubble tea, ice cream, cakes, and cookies, and today's special is taiyaki filled with a delicious surprise ice cream flavor, if you're feeling lucky."

"Don't listen to him!" the other person standing by the counter insists. "Robin is _evil!"_

"Oliver, no scaring away my customers," Robin chides. "Sorry about him, he's just sulking because he got a flavor he wasn't expecting."

"I thought it was matcha! It looked like matcha! But then it turned out to just be avocado..." Oliver pouts.

Robin smiles at Oliver. “I’ll give you some matcha ice cream later, okay?”

“Okay…”

"Avocado, you say?" Khánh turns to look at Robin again with new understanding. "Can I take it to mean there's also probably durian flavor among the possibilities?"

"Depends... how do you feel about durian?"

"I'm rather fond of it."

"How come we've never had it at home then?" Kai asks.

Khánh looks back at him apologetically. "I wasn’t sure if you'd like it, so I didn't want to stink you out of house and home if you ended up hating it."

Kai looks scared now. "Um... what other flavors are possible?"

Robin is smirking. "That would take the fun out of it."

"I got red bean and matcha!" calls one of the couple sitting at the corner table.

Khanh and Kai both turn to look at them. The person who spoke has the most riotously curly red hair Khánh has ever seen and a sincere smile. "Er, sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but if he won't tell you, I can at least give you some additional information."

"My dear Lir is as benevolent as these delectables are delicious," comments the other person at the table. In contrast to the warm spring weather, they are dressed in a full-on cloak of deep blue. Their long black hair is braided intricately and decorated with matching blue flowers. "He was even fortunate enough to obtain a frozen delicacy in the most classic of flavors."

Khánh exchanges a glance with Kai to make sure it's not them alone who are hearing the anachronistic sounds of Shakespearean English coming from the person's mouth.

"Cal, tell them what you got!"

"As you wish, dear heart. I tucked into my own piscine pastry to discover delightfully that it contained a creamy chilled confection of jackfruit."

The man named Oliver’s eyes start to glow. He makes his way over to their table. "Afternoon, do you mind if we chat a bit? My name is Oliver Campbell, I'm a music producer and composer. Actually, would you be interested in featuring in a music video?"

"...So there's potentially durian, avocado, red bean with matcha, or jackfruit?" Khánh ventures while Oliver joins the table and begins having a spirited discussion.

Robin simply smiles. Khánh doesn't trust it at all.

They turn to look up at Kai. "What do you think? Should we try our luck?"

"Hmmmm..." Kai worries at his lip thoughtfully, then squeezes Khánh's hand. "If either of us don't like the flavor, we can trade or share?"

"Of course, Kai," Khánh agrees immediately. "Two taiyaki ice cream surprises, please."

Kai lunges forward to present his card. Khánh simply smirks as Robin raises his hands to reveal Khánh's card, chuckling. "Ah, it's already taken care of, sorry!"

He turns in bewilderment to face Khánh, who begins laughing at the wounded expression on Kai's face. "It was while we were learning what flavors the two over there got!" they confess between giggles.

"I should have thought of using a distraction..." mutters Kai. "Alright, next time then."

"And here you are!" Robin announces as he emerges from the back. "Two taiyaki ice creams. Enjoy!"

"Thank you," the two of them reply in tandem.

Kai holds his taiyaki and makes eye contact with Khánh. "On three?"

"Okay, but you have to count in Vietnamese," Khánh teases.

Kai grins. "Oh, that one's easy, Phượng would be disappointed in your evil prowess! You're getting soft. Một, hai, ba!"

Khánh's proud smile is disguised by the big bite of fish-shaped pancake they take.

"Mm....mmmm!" Kai exclaims in pleasure. "I don't know what flavor that is, but it's _really_ good."

"Let me try!" Khánh leans in and takes a delicate nibble. Slightly grainy, nutty flavor spreads across their tongue, blending well with the pancake. "Mmm yes, this is an excellent black sesame ice cream."

"Thank you," Robin replies.

"What did you get, Khánh?"

"Hmmm why don't you try it?" They offer their dessert up to Kai's lips.

"Oh, yes, let me just—huuauuuuauuuUUUGH!" Kai recoils and also takes a few steps back for good measure. "What _is_ that?"

Khánh beams beatifically and takes a large bite of their durian ice cream taiyaki, then walks quickly after Kai. "Come on Kai, just try a little! Durian is delicious if you eat it instead of smell it~!"

"NO!" Kai cries mournfully, hurriedly slamming down in a chair in the opposite corner from where Oliver, Lir, and the mysterious Cal are still talking. He huddles protectively around his own taiyaki. "I'm perfectly fine with my black sesame!"

"Okay," Khánh agrees easily, sinking into the chair opposite. They lean in, making sure to hold their taiyaki far from Kai's sensitive nose. "Come closer, I'll kiss it better."

Kai leans forward. Just as Khánh's lips press a quick peck onto his, his eyes snap open and he snaps back. "You _smell_ like durian!" he accuses. "No more kisses until you eat something else." His distraught expression suddenly morphs into a mischievous one. "Guess I'll have to _buy_ you something else then!"

Khánh lets Kai almost-sprint to the counter to place his order, resting their head lightly on their hand as they idly munch away at their ice cream pancake. Days filled with this much laughter and liveliness and _Kai_ make their heart ache with happiness. Their eyes linger on Kai as he returns triumphantly to the table and the two of them start talking about other things.

Love, laughter, food... how much better could life possibly get?

Art drawn by toutcequonveut, who also came to the uncomfortable realization that all three non-Vietnamese characters in this picture have the same haircut >.>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who read this story baffling and I made for sheer love of food and oblivious idiots-to-lovers. Your support and enjoyment is what makes creating so wonderful! 
> 
> If you liked this fic, be sure to check out [matcha & milk](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23968954/chapters/57650287) for MORE food and MORE oblivious romance!  
> Alternatively, you can try [Stroke by Stroke](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20070001/chapters/47532472), the wacky sometimes-romance, sometimes-coming-of-age series I've been co-writing with [notobvioustome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notobvioustome/pseuds/notobvioustome)  
> It's currently not updating and will eventually be reposted with new edits, but there's 40k out there now, which is plenty of words to fall in love with the characters :D
> 
> Thank you again for reading! ^-^


	30. FOOD APPENDIX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked for an appendix of all the food/links to recipes, so here we go~

Chapter 1: [Bánh xèo (Vietnamese pancakes)](https://www.hungryhuy.com/banh-xeo-savory-vietnamese-crepes/)

Chapter 2: [Bánh mì (Vietnamese baguette)](https://www.hungryhuy.com/banh-mi-recipe/)

Chapter 3: [Thịt kho](https://www.hungryhuy.com/how-to-make-thit-heo-kho-voi-trung-vietnamese-braised-pork-with-hard-boiled-eggs/)

Chapter 4: [Bánh cuốn](https://www.vickypham.com/blog/vietnamese-steamed-rice-rolls-banh-cuon)

Chapter 5: [Bún chả giò](https://www.hungryhuy.com/vietnamese-egg-rolls-spring-rolls-rice-vermicelli-recipe-cach-lam-bun-cha-gio/)

Chapter 6: [Bánh bèo](https://www.vickypham.com/blog/vietnamese-steamed-rice-cakes-with-mung-bean-paste-dried-shrimp-banh-beo)

Chapter 7: [Gỏi](https://www.vickypham.com/blog/vietnamese-chicken-salad-goi-ga-bap-cai)

Chapter 8: [Bánh tiêu](https://www.vickypham.com/blog/vietnamese-hollow-donut-banh-tieu)

Chapter 9: [Bún thịt nướng](https://www.hungryhuy.com/bun-thit-nuong-recipe-vietnamese-grilled-bbq-pork-with-rice-vermicelli-vegetables/)

Chapter 10: [Gỏi cuốn tôm thịt](https://www.vickypham.com/blog/vietnamese-spring-rolls-goi-cuon)

Chapter 11, 12: [Súp nui](https://www.hungryhuy.com/vietnamese-chicken-soup-w-elbow-macaroni/)

Chapter 13: [Canh chua](https://www.vickypham.com/blog/vietnamese-sour-catfish-soup-canh-chua)

Chapter 14: [Cà ri gà](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e567LE4GPK0)

Chapter 15: [Bún bò Huế](https://www.hungryhuy.com/bun-bo-hue-recipe/)

Chapter 16: [Cá kho tộ](https://www.vickypham.com/blog/vietnamese-caramelized-catfish-ca-kho-to)

Chapter 17: [Cháo gà](https://www.vickypham.com/blog/vietnamese-chicken-porridge-chao-ga)

Chapter 18: [Bánh kẹp lá dứa](https://runawayrice.com/desserts/pandan-waffles-banh-kep-la-dua/)

Chapter 19: [Bánh bao,](https://www.vickypham.com/blog/vietnamese-steamed-pork-buns-dough-from-scratch-banh-bao) [ sữa đậu nành](https://runawayrice.com/drinks/soy-milk-sua-dau-nanh/)

Chapter 20: [Mì hoành thánh](https://www.vickypham.com/blog/wonton-egg-noddle-soup-mi-hoanh-thanh)

Chapter 21: [Bò lá lốt](https://www.vietworldkitchen.com/blog/2007/06/beef-in-wild-be.html)

Chapter 22: [Bánh trung thu,](https://www.vickypham.com/blog/moon-cake-with-sweet-lotus-paste-banh-trung-thu-nhan-hat-sen) [chè trôi nước](https://delightfulplate.com/vietnamese-glutinous-rice-balls-che-troi-nuoc/)

Chapter 23: [Bánh hỏi nem nướng](https://cookpad.com/vn/cong-thuc/6108513-banh-h%E1%BB%8Fi-nem-n%C6%B0%E1%BB%9Bng)

Chapter 24: Trà sữa / [sinh tố ](https://www.vickypham.com/blog/vietnamese-avocado-shake-sinh-to-bo-recipe)

Chapter 25, 26: [Bánh chưng,](https://delightfulplate.com/vietnamese-square-sticky-rice-cake-banh-chung/) [mứt dừa,](https://sites.google.com/site/vietspicesprintablerecipes/mut-dua-candied-coconut-ribbons) [bánh bò](https://runawayrice.com/desserts/steamed-rice-cakes-cow-cakes-banh-bo-hap/)

Chapter 27: [Cơm sườn](https://danangcuisine.com/recipes/recipe-broken-rice-with-grilled-pork-chop-and-meatloaf-com-tam-suon-cha-trung/)


End file.
